


Serendipity

by KalapenoPeppers



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Angst, Bad Puns, Did i mention this would take an eternity, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Friendship, Generally not a happy time for Reader, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Pretty much glacial, Reader-Insert, Reverse Harem, Slow Burn, Strap in for a long read guys, dust is a thing in this too, got a tsundere ex to watch your back, have fun, magic books and au stuff, your best nightmare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-11-28 13:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 109,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11418600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KalapenoPeppers/pseuds/KalapenoPeppers
Summary: An old decorated tome about monsters wasn’t the most exciting thing one could find amongst your grandmother’s things but it did catch your attention. Fascinating depictions of magical creatures aside, it seemed more or less worthless.However a warning label came attached, inscribed on the inside of the cover with a rather clear message: don’t leave it open in the dark."are you the owner of this book?"Of course you did what anyone would in your situation.You screamed.





	1. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

**Author's Note:**

> This one is much more indulgent than the other fic I'm throwing out today, Falling Up. This one gets two chapters right off the bat, cause uh, it was more like one chapter at the start before being split and revised. It has a bit of a slow start before you see any skeles, setting up stuff and all that.
> 
> Still don't really know what I'm doing though, heh. 
> 
> Planning to update around every Wednesday.

This day was filling you with... some kind of... good power.

White smeared across the dark grey sky, the buildings on the way here dappled few and far between, and you found it familiar but in a vaguely depressing way. Even the usually bright, yet weathered exterior of the house looked pale and washed out in this lighting. Despite all that, you looked up at it with hope. Deep down you just knew today was going to be a great one. You were moving into a place for yourself.

"Hey, y/n, get your head out of the clouds and actually help."

A sheepish smile stretched across your face as you turned to face the dour look you knew awaited you. A young man with a semi-perma frown glowered at you over the stack of boxes balanced in his arms.

“Aw Shane!”

He stiffened. A bob of red skipped up and smacked a hand on his back before he could turn, sending him stumbling forward. The girl grinned wickedly, ignoring the sighs of everyone present. “We just got here. Let the girl live a little.”

“I doubt knocking all the stuff to the floor is help, Mai.” you quipped.

She shrugged and marched right up to the house as if she owned it, not bothering to wait for the rest of you. The front door wasn’t locked, but once it showed signs of resistance Mai purposefully got rough with it.

“You need to pick it up,” you called, gathering a box out of your van’s trunk.

Mai grunted, lifting the door as instructed. Despite swinging open with relative ease, it screeched in protest. That would have to be fixed at some point. Your friend scrunched her nose, eyebrows knitted together. “Haunted. Calling it from now. You’ll be a corpse within the week. Leave me your DVD collection in your will. Hana can get your games. Your undying love can be divided between the three of us.”

You rolled your eyes before following Mai and Shane into the two and a half story home. You set it down next to stairs. Where you would sleep hadn’t been decided yet.

Mai had never been in the house before and she glanced at the walls, shelves, and desks like a manic squirrel. Her eyes gleamed, and you had the sneaking suspicion she was making note of what she saw for her own nefarious purposes, though what they were you had no idea. Rather, you didn’t  _want_  to know. In the living room, Mai tugged off the white sheets draped over the furniture. Dust flew into the air with a dramatic flourish, revealing the antique leather sofa underneath. “How swanky. You never told me how much of a fancy lady your grandmother was.”

You wandered over with a raised brow and pulled another sheet off two matching chairs across from the sofa. A low oak table separated them. “She was more relic than human. I swear she went everywhere, did everything. The house was always like a museum.”

“Really now? Think she’s got anything worth pawning?”

You shrugged. In the corner of your eye, you caught a flash of Shane’s green sweater vest as he slipped past out the front door. “The couch? Don’t go getting any ideas.”

She laughed, the boisterous sound echoing through the empty room. “Buzzkill. I’m gonna go grab some bags.”

Red hair pulled back into a ponytail with stray strands falling into fierce green eyes, Mai Sasaki had a certain air and presence that preceded her. She was the type of girl who wore her heart on her sleeve and made sure you knew it too. So unlike the third of their mismatched trio, Hana Mizuno, who was the wallflower to Mai’s inferno. Mai ‘jokingly’ proclaimed her the ‘main character’ type of girl upon their first meeting three years ago. Honestly? You'd be inclined to agree. Strange things always did happen around that girl. But better her than you. You’re not cut out for the role of the leading lady in her own story.

You followed her as far as the hallway before pausing to pull down the sheet over the entryway mirror. The girl staring back was normal. No noteworthy features, no reason for someone to look twice at and you liked it that way.

You three were outcasts together.

The only thing you felt remotely bad about was leaving Hana on her own. You hadn't hung out much in the apartment once rented with your now old roommates, only staying so long for her. They were nice enough, paid rent on time and kept their noses out of your business. But, unlike Hana, you hadn't ever felt comfortable around them. Too much unsaid tension, not enough genuine trust. The upkeep for maintaining that delicate balance wore on your nerves. You didn’t want to leave her with that, unable to move in with you to a place far bigger than any one person needed. Much more than your one person could be supported in here. It felt like Home Alone upscaled and permanent.

Hana as roommate to fill some of the empty space would have been perfect but your mom was adamant on no else living in the house. She was the one most particular about keeping the house as neat and pristine as possible. Really, if she was so worried about these things than she would have drove out here to visit more than once since the funeral, instead of letting it all gather dust for years. If the place had been robbed in that stretch of time she’d never know.

Even with the house out this far from civilization to be a regular target, it bothered you more than you cared to think about. You’re going to be alone. Essentially isolated. No neighbors in sight. You’d think it be a great feeling, but no. It worried you. The abrupt shift from limited space to what felt like an ocean’s worth needed serious adjustment, even longer to get used to the fact no one would be around to hear you scream if something went horribly wrong.

Maybe… maybe you could ask one of your friends to stay with you. Just for tonight.

“Admiring the floor?”

You jumped, heart in your throat. Shane stood behind you, expressionless. You didn’t even hear him come back.

“Just… thinking some things over.” You slapped on what you hoped was a convincing smile. On the inside, you winced. He’d never buy it. Sure enough, his features shifted into disbelief.

Damn. You hated being right when it came to him. It almost never meant anything good. Why did you bother in the first place? He knew you too well for that to have a snowflake’s chance in hell work. The inevitable drawbacks of hanging around an ex, you suppose.

Shane shoved his hands into jean pockets, blue eyes narrowed yet no words came forth. He always did this when on the fence about something, mulling it over his mind. Probably wondering whether he would push for a proper answer. You both stood in silence for a moment or two before he ran a hand through cropped brown hair. “Whatever.”

Watching his back as he exited the house brought a flood of relief, a small twinge of guilt right on its heels. You heaved a sigh, letting the held air out of your lungs. You hated feeling like this after every exchange with him. Although you shared a close friendship things were still slightly awkward.

At least the situation had grown better over time. How he acted towards you now was a far cry from the early days.

You joined the two by the van and pulled two duffel bags free, emptying what was left of the trunk. They had already made quick work of the rest of your junk.

Taking a step back, you basked in the sight of the house again. It was near the treeline, surrounded on both sides by woodland, the air thick with the smell of pines and misted earth. A towering cliff jutted out from the north. Fears aside, you loved it. The dirt encrusted paneling, the elevated porch. Even the high windows. Of course, you’d have to pick a room to renovate without upsetting mom too much.

One day when the market was better you two would be able to turn it around and make a dime off the property, but you knew better. The house was an hour away from the university you attended, where several of your friends lived in residence, and a twenty minute drive to the nearest decent town that didn't look like it died in the depression and never recovered. The city to the south settled at a mountain base was a good forty-five-minute drive. The name of it escaped you but it brought back pleasant memories. The house was old enough too that it was a turn off for those in the market to buy.

Lucky you.

An hour later found you and Mai touring the interior of the main floor. Shane was…somewhere. Probably looking around while you were stuck room shopping.

“How about this? With how bare it is, adding a personal touch will be a piece of cake. Looks like no one died in it either.”

Giving the bedroom Mai opened a once over, you nodded in approval. Decent wallpaper, nice lace curtains, easy to modify. Room after room on the second floor had the redhead convinced they were haunted by spirits. The last room you checked, the one grandma died in, made Mai ‘nope’ out of that faster than you could blink and proceed to examine the main floor rooms. You were glad to be over with the ordeal.

Or so you thought, until Mai turned and headed towards the back of the house. You followed, lagging a pace behind the rapid, excited steps. “Where are you going now?”

She slowed to a stop in the middle of the hallway, glancing back at you. “To search for the attic. Old people always hide the good stuff up there.”

You jerked a thumb over your shoulder towards the other end of the hallway. A thick cord dangled from the ceiling. Once upon a time, pulling it revealed a foldable set of stairs. “Grandma told me I wasn't allowed up in the attic when I was a kid. I've only seen my mom go up with her once. I guess it's not a big deal, but being a kid, I thought…well, things seemed different.”

Mai huffed, tone exasperated at being denied. “Everything is different when you're a kid, dummy.”

“Yeah.” Maybe another time you could risk your life on the rickety stairs. Not that you were scared, but falling and breaking something wouldn’t be the best way to start your stay. “Anyway, mom said there’s a few boxes that were brought down from the attic already. I think it’s in a closet. We can treasure hunt in those for now.”

“Alright fine. Hurry up with that then, so we can pack up and get out of here. I’m hungry and I saw no take out anywhere close on the drive here.”

"I know a place that won’t give us food poisoning.” You grinned. “Trust me. It was a fav of the family. Only fifteen minutes away.”

Before Mai could respond, you set off in search of that closet. You did locate it after a bit of time near the stairs. Inside sat a stack of boxes that had been shoved in with no care on the middle shelf, old spray paint cans littering the ground beneath them. Two were rather light, easy to handle. Only the third provided a little challenge, but you maneuvered yourself back to your new room without tripping onto your face so it counted as a win in your book. You deposited the boxes on the ground but paused before leaving. Everyone was probably waiting on you but a quick peek through one of them wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Peeling off the yellowed tape, you pulled back the worn cardboard flaps of the heaviest box. Miscellaneous objects were tucked away inside and you drew out a few items at a time. Ties, photographs, creepy dolls, perfume bottles in cool shapes and designs. A clear mermaid shaped one was your favorite. You unscrewed the brass cap that was made to look like her crown. The perfume was gone, but the smell was still there. You sequestered away the Elvis Presley one, Mai would love that. The perfume was in that one, but it smelled more like musk than lady's wear.

Almost done unloading, you dug deeper into its contents. Junk, junk, junk-

A tome.

Hidden underneath one of those snow globes from back when the USSR was a thing, it wasn’t like anything else in the box. Silver gleamed from the brown hardcover. Floral patterns and ivy vines encroached from the book’s spine across the cover and back. The inscribed font at the top appeared more like an illegible word scramble than a working title. A weird emblem sat right in the middle of it all, more vines creeping along a small hole located in the lower right. You grasped it firmly, turning it over to inspect it for markings of identification only to find none.

“What the hell?” Curious, you tried to open the cover but the edge couldn’t be found. Skin creasing between your brows, you turned it over in your hands again. “Is this even a book?”

The pads of your fingers caught on the siding and you felt a section of it give a little. Intrigued, you angled the book down. You pushed against the side until tiny panels shifted around one another. A puzzle. The panels were so well made they were nearly invisible unless pulled apart. When slid into the correct position, a line emerged just a hair down from the tip. Once all sides were completed, the seam for the book would be revealed.

Time fell away as you steadily worked at each side, managing to get them all to expose their edges, only to not have three of the four line up, or none of the sides line up. It would have frustrated lesser men, but you were not one to give in so easily without a fight. You loved these types of puzzles, the sense of achievement, victory and satisfaction making your insides flutter with the defeat of each one.

Catching the light just right, you found where your mistake was and moved to fix it. You heard the click as all four sides lines up. Not really caring what was inside, you creaked open the cover and held it close.

Plumes of dust billowed in angry waves up and over one another, seeping free from the book in your hand like smoke. You jerked back, wondering if there was a fire, the book falling. Still, the dust came, writhing with purpose. You tasted suffocation. It coated your throat, stuffed your nostrils. Unable to breath you fell to your knees and heaved, your vision was beginning to suffer as your lungs burned to draw in air. Like an altered photograph, the edges of your sight turned black, and that blackness crept further and further, taking over more of your sight. Unable to see anything, the world went blindly dark and you felt like a separate layer stretched out over your body, not quite in control of it or even a part of it anymore.

Then it went white.

* * *

Waking up shouldn’t feel like being dragged out of ice-cold sea water but it did. Normally you’d take a few minutes to blink the haze from your eyes, gather your bearings. Not this time. You jolted awake and jerked, head nearly banging into the hazy figure hovering by your side, hand on your shaking shoulder. Breathing hitched, ashen taste in your mouth, you rolled onto your side. How did you end up on the ground?

Eyes wide, your hands clutched at your chest. Not enough air. Heart pounding against your rib-cage, you coughed hard enough to bring your whole body into a convulsion. Sweat beaded across the plane of your forehead, dampening your short fringe, causing a few strands to stick to your temple. The next few seconds blurred together. The ringing in your head refused to let up. Your entire system felt thrown off kilter. Something felt  _different_.

When the sensation finally ceased, you dimly registered that same figure from before sitting behind you, patting your back. Words were murmured in a low timbre. "Even breaths, even breaths. Keep breathing, focus on my voice."

Shane.

His normal tone of guarded vigilance for the world was gone, replaced with genuine fear. Shane was never in a position to fear anything. He was the type that raged his way out of fear, so hearing him now was weird.

"I'm fine," you rasped, unable to get another word in before you coughed again. You hit the floor with your palm and coughed louder.

"We're out of drinking water, otherwise I would have-"

"I know," You blinked away tears, trying to clear your watery vision. "Thank you."

He pulled you back into a sitting position and you took notice of how his hands trembled all the way. It must have looked really bad. "I heard you fall. When I came in you weren't breathing. I gave you CPR and then you…then that's it. What did you do?"

"I… I don't know. I opened a book and I thought I saw dust, but I couldn't breathe. Maybe there was a funky odor or some old spores on it. I don't know how to explain it."

None too kindly, he reached over and grabbed your face between his fingers, twisting it one way and then the other, staring into your probably red rimmed eyes. "You must have done something, you look like crap. When was the last time you ate?"

You jerked your face free. That sounded a little like to the Shane you dated; more than you were comfortable hearing but against your will it loosened your shoulders from their tensed state. "That's what we were planning on doing next, or didn’t Mai tell you? Don't look at me like that, I'll be fine."

"Not fine enough to drive. I'm staying with you overnight. I didn't think it would be dangerous for you but I guess I was wrong. Just for tonight I should stick close in case you start choking again because of something else."

You wanted to argue and insist otherwise, but even if you didn’t want to admit it, his reasoning was right. It would be smart and safe to have someone keep an eye on you in case something else happened.

Waving him off you stood. “Do whatever you want. I’m hungry. We’re leaving the rest for tomorrow. Food now.”

Offering no resistance, Shane followed you down and out of the house, taking the keys when you tried to slide into the driver’s seat and barking at Mai to get in too.

An hour later you were all back in you living room with four different cartons of Chinese food set on the floor. No one bothered sitting at the table in seats like normal people. Instead you spread a mat and ate off your cheap plastic plates while flipping through channels on the television. Mai had been none too happy to hear of your dust experience from Shane. Quite a few creative threatens were thrown at him, swearing to do horrible things if she woke up the day to hear about your death. She turned to you then and made you swear to visit her in the nearby city tomorrow before bidding you both a goodnight.

When night finally forced you to retire, you dressed and readied for bed. Shane was messing with his hair while you set up your bed, pulling back the covers on your bed. Queen sized, you had cleaned and fitted it with new sheets. Sharing yours with him was out of the question so another mattress had been dragged into the room for him to sleep on.

You noticed the book abandoned on the floor. Right where you left it. Glancing towards the bathroom, you scooped it up and set it on the nightstand.

“Didn't you say your grandmother died in this house?” Shane hadn’t looked away from the mirror, though the motions he ran through were limp and his eyes seemed hazy, like his mind had wandered elsewhere. You muttered a confirmation and he stopped. “It was a peaceful death, right?”

“She was old and she went in her sleep. Why, are you weird about it?”

“I was thinking about dying.” He turned to flick the bathroom light off, then the bedroom’s. “Who bothers missing you when you’re gone?”

 “You don’t think that’s sorta deep right before bed?”

“When else are you supposed to think about these sorts of things? You almost died today.”

You paused before slipping under the covers. Shane had already piled up his pillows and was punching them into shape. It was a funny turn of events listening to his concern, since the whole reason you were friends at all stemmed from the fact you forced him to clean up his act. During high school, he’d given you and your friends a tough time from day one. Shane was the name; passive aggressive treatment, borderline harassment, was his game. Hana had been a special target of some of his worst, insensitive insults. You’d see red each time he opened his mouth and jump to her defense. Later on you learned it was mostly fueled by Hana’s close resemblance to his old girlfriend rather than genuine hate.

Still, back, if someone had told you Shane would one day become one of your closest friends and get freaked out about the possibility of losing you, there would have been no way you’d believe it. Dating him sounded even more implausible at the time. You’d have laughed and thanked them for the hilarious joke. You and that jerk? No way. Funny how life worked itself out, even though you were no longer together.

A mumble drew your head out of the clouds. You shook your head to free yourself from your thoughts. “What?”

Shane had no trouble finding your face to glare at through the dark. “You are not allowed to die. Maybe the rest of our friends too but I don’t give two shits about anyone else. Now stop spacing out and go to sleep.”

...Friggin' tsundere.

It didn’t take long for him to doze off, trapped in a peaceful slumber periodically interrupted by a shift in position. Sleep escaped you on the other hand. Wide awake, hours wasted away with you lying on your side. You spread your fingers and dug your nails into the sheets, trapping folds of white in your hands. The sensation of pins and needles spread across your body as life returned to your limbs.

Your eyes shifted to the book. Passing out was a fluke, it must’ve been. You no longer risked seizing up from whatever the foreign entity was - if that had been real and not some hallucination. It was gone, purged from your soul. Nothing to worry about. That was the end of that.

Yet ash and dust lingered on your tongue.


	2. Brontide

It was coming out of your hand. Tiny but glittering in the sunlight. A sun that was becoming too hot. You started to swelter, your mouth twisting into a frown. The knife you'd accidentally nicked your palm with laid haphazardly on the ground, next to the half-peeled orange dropped in your surprise.

Your lips began to part, to voice your ire to yourself and complain about having to find another of the delicate fruit, and the same sparkling matter began to gush past your teeth.

Frozen, you were unable to move and unable to think as dust iridescent as nacre poured forth, the sun illuminating a rainbow of colors. It went from a small trickle to a torrent. A scream was locked in your throat as the fine powder became too hot to touch and burned at your bare skin.

Dust mixed with grass, slipping through your trembling fingers and seeping in like blood.

An unseen force dragged you down further and further, water surrounding you. Above, light shone bright on the water's surface but you were helpless to the currents plunging you into depths too dark for a river. Slamming into a gritty surface, your heart kickstarted.

You scrambled to your hands and feet, desperate to move. But the dust was all around you. There was no light in the sky anymore. Just darkness and dust. Dust that shifted under your feet like roaring waves in the midst of a storm at sea. You tried to swim but the dust swallowed you whole. Now it was you trying to burst free from it. Now you were the one going to drown. Drown in unmoving dust that crushed around you with the might of a mountain, squeezing tighter and tighter to the point that breathing was a forgotten memory.

You felt cold again, moisture on your cheeks and eyes. This wasn't happening. This was a dream. You just needed to wake up. You just needed to get through, to free yourself. You needed to imagine the hand on your wrist tighter than the sand could ever hope to achieve—

Your arm screamed as the grip on your wrist pulled.

You were dragged from the crushing depths and back into the darkness. Your tortured lungs sucked greedily at the air as dust trickled from your body like water drops.

_"You should not be here."_

You blinked. Turning your head, your stare met the gaze of the child kneeling beside you. Collected in a way you weren't while on your backside and trying to remember how to breathe, he- she- they(?) waited patiently for you to catch your breath.

"What—"

 _"You did this,"_ they stated with the same emotion as a shard of ice. Sure that you could once more breathe, they stood up and pulled you to your feet. Your eyes took in as much of the endless black as possible while keeping the child in your sight. _"What did you do?"_

"I don't know what you mean," It's not as if you wanted to dream this nightmare fuel up.

The child's face didn't move an inch but you saw the confusion and curiosity swirl in their brown orbs. Their hand placed itself above their heart. You looked down at the appendage, an odd blend of tan and pale in the non-existent lighting. Paleness that only came from not seeing the sun. _"You can't stay. How did you come to be here?"_

"I have no idea."

You were certain if they were the type, they would have groaned. Instead, the child turned to you and leveled you with an unwavering stare. _"It is time for you to go,"_

And once more you were falling through the darkness.

You were unable to breath. You couldn't come up from the water, dust, whatever. It had a too tight of a hold on your shoulders, pinning you down as fear wiggled through your system. You opened your mouth and screamed, struggling against the restrains still holding you.

'The dust—!' was all that could flutter through your addled mind.

Bright eyes stared into your own, not brown. A voice echoed just out of your hearing, soft but firm in its attempt to reach you. Skin as pale as milk floated around the bright orbs.

“—Just a dream. y/n, can you hear me? Wake up. You were dreaming. It was just a dream. y/n."

The outlines of Shane matched up and suddenly there was only one figure hovering over you, not three. The darkness was no more. "I'm awake."

He breathed a sigh of relief and released you. Concern lining his face, the lamp light on the night stand carved deep shadows into his weary features. "Damn it, what the hell did you do? You're so fucking pale."

You shivered with the memory, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I'm sorry. I woke you up."

"No one gives a shit. Are you alright?" When you nodded Shane pulled back on the covers, fixing them. "Then try going back to sleep. You shouldn't dream again if it's only for a few hours. It's like…almost five AM. That's not too late."

"Sorry. I must have scared you. I…" You let your words trail off as you drew the blankets tighter around you and burrowed into your pillow. A little shaken, he sighed, turned off the light and laid back down, not saying nothing more.

* * *

 

The second time you crawled back into awareness, you were alone. Soft shafts of light streamed through the window, as though it were completely trying to shine with all its might directly on you. It was painful. When the sun could no longer be ignored and shattered any hope of sleeping again, you rolled over to escape it. A sleepy groan escaped and you propped yourself up slightly on your elbows.

Slowly sitting up fully, your eyes clenched shut tightly. You cradled your throbbing head in your hands and blinked, the light pouring in the equivalent of piercing daggers. You mumbled something incoherent before finally forcing your eyes into slants, eyelids providing a proper amount of shade. The unfamiliar sight of your new room greeted you as dust motes danced in and out of sun beams.

Hearing Shane downstairs, you slid out of bed and made your way over to the bathroom. The water had been turned on, but it was still wonky, so you skipped the shower and just settled with brushing your teeth and fixing your hair before going downstairs. Judging from the stray brown strands scattered across the tiled floor, Shane had already been up and used the bathroom for himself.

Before even reaching the bottom floor you smelled the won ton soup from last night's dinner. Walking into the kitchen you found Shane sipping at it from a mug. A second mug sat across the small table and you took it, "Next time you come to visit I'll have groceries."

"Next time I'm bringing my own crap," He grunted over the rim of his mug.

You blinked. "You sound like sunshine in a bottle. You slept, right?"

"Somewhat," He shrugged. "Better than you I guess."

You tasted the soup. "Thanks for not freaking out on me. I didn't think I would react like that. I never have nightmares anymore. Don’t think I can remember the last time I ever had a dream."

"Don't make it a habit. I doubt my folks would appreciate me skipping out on them any more than I already have."

As if on cue, the phone in his back pocket lit up with a flash. He slid a thumb across the screen, licking an abused corner of his lip he liked to bite. "Yeah?"

Not meaning to, you managed to hear everything, loud and unfiltered as Shane’s father was. Bored, he pulled his phone away from his ear, rolling his eyes as his father lectured about the dangers of going off on his own and how disrespectful it was to not call home. After a minute, he simmered down to the point where he had to cough and catch his breath. Shane took the opening.

"I texted you, learn to open your mailbox by now. I told you I would be staying over at y/n's. She fainted on me and refused to go to a hospital so I had to stay behind and watch her. Make sure it wasn't something serious. You can't expect me to just leave her after something so serious, can you? ...I'm with her right now. I was good and made her breakfast. I can put her on if you don't believe me."

There was a loud gruff sound on the other side of the line, and then Shane spoke up again. "I'm sure they'll live… Yeah, whatever, I'm leaving soon. Yeah… Love you too. Bye." Disconnecting the call, he dropped his phone onto the table and sighed. "I made you breakfast, drive me home."

"I said I would. Don't be snappy about it," you replied. You drained the rest of the soup and set the mug in the sink. "I'm going to pump some water from the well and then we can go."

He raised a single brow at your pajama top and bottom, complete with wrinkles. "Dressed like that?" In contrast, a loose fitting button up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and black jeans adorned Shane’s form, his high top converse turned down.

Scowling, you left to draw the water from the well and make sure the house was getting water without issue before slipping upstairs to change. Pulling wrinkled articles of clothing out of your duffle bag, your changed into capris and a white short sleeve t-shirt. Combing your hair up into a messy bun, you paused when you caught sight of the tome on your nightstand. For a second your fingertips went cold against your scalp and you thought you were turning into dust again.

"It's just a dream," you whispered to yourself. Blinking hard, you forced the image out of your mind. "It was just a dream."

You turned into the hallway, and took the stairs two at a time, only stopping at the front door to slip on a pair of sneakers. Shane took notice, rising from his seat in the kitchen to join you. His motions ceased, probably due to his eagle vision picking up on the tremble of your fingers and the difficulty you had with your laces.

"You're pale again."

"Thanks. I've always wanted to try out the new look."

"You know what I mean."

"I'm fine enough to drive," Though you didn't feel it, your voice came out strong and confident. Fear had no place in it but it was there, nestled deep in your heart somewhere.

Pretending to be convinced, Shane shrugged. "If you say so."

You drove him home, in the city near the university. He left without pushing the issue, but threatened you with showing up unannounced if you didn't check in regularly via text and skype once your laptop was set up and fished out of the packaging. You knew it was useless to try and say anything but yes, so you promised before driving off to see Mai.

Your friend’s house wasn’t a normal sized. In fact, it was a slight step down from what you considered to be a mansion, but to her family it qualified as little more than a little summer spot. You’d never understand the standards of rich people but lounging around on the back veranda, come rain or sun, had become a fond pastime of yours. Sitting and doing absolutely nothing of importance or stress inducing? Sign you up.

With the picturesque view of her parents’ property near the base of the large hill – or was mountain more appropriate? – this resting area had a way of calming the nerves. The air felt cool against your cheeks, the soothing feeling washing over you. Dark clouds rolled in from the south, rumbling with distant thunder. The wind brought a certain crisp and fresh smell, a familiar one you adored.

Rain.

With a heavy sigh, you turned away from the sight and eased back into a reclining position on the porch swing. The back door swung open. Green flats entered your sight, prompting your eyes to travel up and meet the matching pair of eyes. Petal pink hair pulled back into a brass clip, it fell over her shoulders and tangled with the collar of her denim vest. “Having fun out here?”

Hana.

“It’s alright. Although it looks like a thunderstorm might be heading our way.” You smiled, something in you unwinding in relief. Thank goodness Miss Mizuno happened to drop in for a visit the same time you did. Mai’s entrances had a way of making peace and quiet a distant memory in the most, well, Mai-way possible.

The girl sat next to you, a comfortable silence blossoming between you both. It couldn’t last. You anticipated hearing it but it still made your mouth pucker as if you’d eaten something sour when her gaze wandered back to you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” Thanks to your friend, everyone and their mothers heard about yesterday. Classic Mai.

“Yes. With how people are reacting you’d think I already died.” You appreciated the worry but having to listening to the same rephrased question throughout the day from the rest of your group of friends got a little tiring to deflect. It was just dust, spores, whatever the hell came out of that book and you passed out. Shane stayed overnight and, aside from the nightmare, no more incidents occurred. Nothing to raise so much concern over in your eyes. “It was a little accident that wouldn’t happen again.”

At least Hana knew how to take a hint. Unfortunately, she moved the conversation to another topic plaguing your mind. "You're not talking to your friend today?"

“Not yet. He hasn’t contacted me in a couple days." A little weird but not uncommon. You wished you had the power to see what he was doing. “How did you know?"

"Whenever I see you, I always hear you scoffing at something new from him," She grinned at your embarrassed expression.

"He’s got work today," you bluffed. Perhaps that was it. A reasonable explanation seeing as he balanced more than one job.

Obviously Hana was referencing Sine. Whoever said internet friends weren’t true friends sorely needed some. You’d met the nerd by mistake during another visit to Mai, accidentally clicking a link that directed you to a weird site you’d never heard of before. A site solely dedicated to amateur artists hooked you faster than you’d care to admit. Oddly enough, asking your friends yielded no knowledge of it’s existence either and they were some of the most internet savy people out there.

There were multiple servers, or rooms, open for the artists. The rooms would also welcome watchers. You were among them, stumbling among the masses upon someone like Sine. Depending on who you asked, his status as the resident jokester was either a godsend or a downright curse.

You didn’t speak to each other but over time you quickly became fast pals. You both were at classic the stage of ‘who did it, who hurt you, I’ll kill them’. You liked someone you had never touched, seen, or met. Bless the internet.

"I want to meet him!" Hana proclaimed, interrupting your thoughts. "Me too," went through your mind but you ignored it. If you weren’t careful, the return of Mai on this subject would be inevitable.

"Someday you'll meet him," you offered instead.

"How long have you known him now?" she asked.

"A year and a half, give or take a few weeks."

"Is he cute?"

"I-I guess?" You paused. It still blew your mind entirely that, while funny, you didn't know what Sine looked like. Not even a simple detail like his hair color. To be fair, he knew nothing visually about you either.

_Ding!_

Speak of the devil. You pulled the phone out of your jacket pocket to peek at the new message.

 **> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : what kind of fish is only made of two sodium atoms  
**> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : 2 na

Within you the familiar urge to simultaneously twist up your face in disgust and laugh bubbled up. Science was his choice of the day it seemed.

 **> To: NewSerifInTown** : that was awful  
**> To: NewSerifInTown** : i actually want to cry  
**> To: NewSerifInTown** : your gene pool needs some chlorine to wash out those bad puns

Hana rose from her seat, a knowing smirk on her face. "I'm going to go relax for a bit now. Take care of yourself,"

You nodded, getting up yourself. It was time to leave anyway. You still needed to shop for food and other living needs at the local grocery store. With a wave, you bid her goodbye and jogged around Mai’s house to the front yard where your van resided. Your phone vibrated with unread texts.

 **> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : whoa  
**> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : no need to be salty about it

 **> To: NewSerifInTown** : this is a salt

 **> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : na  
**> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : youre just overreacting

This guy.

Shaking your head, you looked over your shoulder at the rumble among the clouds. The sky lit up with the brilliant flash of crackling lightning. It was so far away, but the bright flash and the loud thunder was enough to urge you into the car.

Hours later, on your journey home, you jumped slightly at the soft tune of your phone. You almost wanted to laugh at seeing Sine's name as the caller ID, the titular wave function set as his picture. You set the phone to speaker, wedging it securely into a cup holder.

"Hello?" you greeted cheerfully.

"Hi, y/n. How is your day going?" Sine asked, the familiar deep timbre voice sounding more subdued than usual, but you shrugged it off.

"Great so far, I just finished moving yesterday." Your brows pulled together. Yesterday’s events and your nightmare replayed in your mind, the unpleasant tingle of dust brushing against your skin.

"Move?" He sounded distracted. Confused even. You shared that feeling as you gently reminded him, curious and slightly worried. "Oh, yeah... Sorry, now I remember..."

"Sine? What's wrong?"

There was a long pause, before you heard him take a deep breath and then exhale like a person simply done with everything. "Oh, nothing... Just watching my kitchen burn down in front of me."

Wait. What?

"Are you serious?" Sine pranked a lot, but not usually about stuff like this.

Another deep breath. Exhale. "Completely."

Another bout of silence stretched on before you hesitantly interrupted it, index finger absently tapping against the armrest. "Um... how? Are you okay?" You were getting really concerned now. Yelling could be faintly heard in the background.

"I'm fine, I just came back about a half hour ago and found it like this... As for how, my brother."

The mention of said brother filled you with mild amusement even within your total shock. You knew from the stories Sine told you that some of his brother’s extracurricular activities tended to be destructive. But this? How could he burn their house down like that?

"Do you guys have anywhere else to go?" You asked once the thought came to you. Your new place had plenty of room.

“Oh, yeah. The house is mostly fine so we’re staying here. Just thought I wouldn’t need to deal with kitchen repairs so soon.”

Well, it was a nice thought while it lasted.

The entire drive home consisted a constant back and forth over nothing in particular, a few puns and reassurances of him being fine scattered here and there. You couldn’t tell if they were to cheer you or himself up. The topics jumped everywhere every few minutes, from the fire, to the move, to his brother. This was how it always went, yet you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to talk to him in person. It’s not as if you both hadn’t discussed it before. Before long you’re pulling into your driveway, wishing Sine good luck with the kitchen.

The weight of your solitude truly hit you for the first time.

"God, what did I just do?" you asked aloud.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you breathed a deep sigh and stepped out of the car. It took a few trips to get everything in, but by the time you finished you had no idea what to do with yourself. Everything that interested you, like writing and reading or sketching, was impossible with your heart poised to start hammering at the drop of a hat.

"Music, that's what I need."

Your phone set to shuffle from an old 50's playlist, earphones deployed, the sounds followed you throughout the house as you gave everything a once over before heading up to your room. You could hear rain begin to pelt the rooftop, and the faint sound of it hitting the windows when you crossed the threshold and stopped in front of the tome. It couldn’t be forgiven.

Without hesitation, you picked it up and turned it upside down. Nothing happened. There was no dust, no plumes of murderous smoke, no hand reaching out through the darkness to help you, nothing. Not exactly disappointed, you sat on the edge of your bed and turned the tome over in your hands. It seemed a little heavier than you remembered, dimensions comparable to the size of a large coffee table book.

That wasn’t the only new detail about it. The cover was different. You remembered the surface being made up of forest brown, not dark obsidian that gleamed like captured fire. The flowery vine design was still there, but the emblem shifted to an entirely new design. A white symbol, rune perhaps. An orb between two wings with three triangles beneath it, the middle one inverted. Above it, a title was printed there now. The white of the text seemed to glow in the dim lighting of the room.

The Undertale.

You rubbed at the obsidian, trying to wipe it away, thinking maybe it was a coating that fell away.

_'It's because of what you did.'_

You dropped the book on the floor and backed up onto your bed, pulling up your feet and pulling them tight against your body. That hadn't been your voice in your head.

"No, it was just a nightmare, it was just a dream. You're fine, y/n, you're fine."

But you weren't and you knew it.

When you looked up the smoke stood in your bedroom shaped in the figure of the child. You couldn't scream. You were dust again; at least that was how you felt. Tears pricked your eyes as you contemplated what this meant. You had finally cracked, broken.

 _'Not broken,'_ Their voice echoed inside your head.

You squeezed your eyes shut. Whatever smoke figure you thought you saw was gone, like it had never been there. It was late and you were tired. You had just imagined it.

Collecting a few things, you straightened out your room and made for the downstairs kitchen to bake yourself half a loaf of bread with tomato sauce and cheese toppings-gifts from Shane's father. You sat at the table and checked your phone for messages and texts. There were a few from Mai, Shane, and Hana, a joke from Sine, a handful from the university, and even one from the library, but none from your mother.

You tried to call but the line just rang and rang. Your mother had an old landline with no answering machine. That phone would ring forever if you let it, so you didn't after seven even rings. That wasn't surprising though.

Feeling better after food, you pulled out your gaming system. Before you knew it the sky was black outside and you had to light up the house. The clouds angrily growled, seemingly more enraged as time went on. The backyard glistened from the rain. You forced the curtains shut as another boom of thunder made itself known and threw yourself back on the couch. As you reached for the controller, your knuckles brushed against the hard cover of something you’d nearly forgotten.

The damn tome you brought downstairs with you looked innocent propped on the oaken surface. The coffee table was close, so you shifted and reached for it. With quiet huff of breath, you cradled the obsidian binding, resting the book in your lap.

It was just a book, it couldn’t do anything to you. Your mind was your enemy here, playing tricks on you, so it needed to be shown who was boss here. You flipped open the tome. A poem appeared to be inscribed on the flyleaf.

 _As shadows fall beware; darkness exposes the souls_  
_living, existing, and yet almost incapable of being._  
_Nothing, yearning to pull off the illusion of reality  
_ _Until a desire to delve deeper ignite forbidden pages._

 _Forget your place in reality and step outside_  
_Of yourself, your routines, your safe circle,_  
_Of your memories, beliefs and prejudices.  
_ _Let the lines blur and be entranced._

What fresh hell was this? Forbidden? Did you uncover and activate some voodoo crap? That would explain so much.

The wind outside began to pick up furiously, making the back door rattle. You looked towards it in time to catch a flash of lightning streak down. Your attention turned back to rest of the words.

 _Awaken to a fresh perspective on the world,_  
_A new visceral view of its entangled web._  
_Examine your life as art, judge as for a crime._  
_Pass the verdict, rebel against Lady Luck’s set path,_  
_Reintroduce fortune, spontaneity, and serendipity.  
_ _Let every moment be more than a precursor for the next_

 _And in crushing your expectations,  
_ _Welcome the unexpected._

...

...

...What?

Confused, you flipped to the next page. A single yellow flower smiled up at you. You rubbed your eyes, then looked again. No doubting it, the lifelike flower... had an actual face. Six blindingly yellow petals, two beady black eyes, and a single mouth... Grinning.

It even had teeth.

…The fuck?

You continued, eyes widening at the collection of dossiers. Bipedal goats, slimes, frogs, birds, bunnies graced the open pages. An armoured dragon here. A gigantic spider serving tea there. Tidbits of information, names, little portions of biographies lined the pages next to the small snapshot of a monster at any given time, each noticeably different from the last. You thought about traditional monsters. First imagining them as four legged, clawed beasts with long fangs, eating human beings whole, and as the types ripped straight out of fantasy tales. Then you compared them to the apparent bestiary before you. Thoughts of the previous owner came to mind.

“Grandma where did you pick up weird shit like this?” A derisive laugh tickled your throat, the ridiculousness of your situation. Here you were, sitting in the middle of a storm while you thumbed through your grandmother’s personal guide to fantastical creatures and where to find them. Dust choked you for this. “I nearly died for some profiles of imaginary creatures.”

Past a certain point, not even a fifth of the way through, the pages seemingly fused together. Fighting against the new obstacle proved fruitless as you tugged at them. They giggled, but wouldn't bend to your wishes. You huffed and tried again, but it still refused to be pried open any further. Instead it yielded… another puzzle, like the one that unlocked the book.

The puzzle itself was not difficult, with only one well hidden move required to unlock the next book section. Out of the curiosity that got you stuck in this mess in the first place, you investigated each side to try to find the hidden movement. The panels were all solid, and give little away about how the mechanism would open, however with only a few panels present solving took no time at all.

Like hell you were opening it though.

“That’s probably it too.” In all likelihood, more monsters awaited you, but the puzzle left disappointment in its wake. With how much of the book was left, you figured more of the mechanical riddles comprised as the key for each future section. Interesting as the depictions were, you had hoped to get a little more your troubles. You thought you’d been onto something after the cover somehow switched. Maybe Mai was right about the house being haunted.

You returned to the previous passage, the portfolio of two skeletons printed on the pages.

And you had gotten the sense that the book was warning you not to leave it out in the dark. What possibly passed as dangerous about some monsterdex was beyond your imagination, but you already learned your lesson the second you passed out.

Time to return to the safe, loving arms of video games.

You played through another hour, and began to feel the pulls of exhaustion throughout the second. Not wanting to go upstairs and sleep in the same bed as last night, you tossed down your controller down and exchanged it for a blanket and pillow. It was cool enough that all you needed was something to wrap around your shoulders. Setting a different playlist on your phone to shuffle, you drifted off after two songs.

You awoke some time later to relative silence. You hadn’t turned off the television. Darkness shrouded the house, your own form cast in shadows by the light of your phone, the music player apparently having just finished cycling through the songs. The power must have been cut during the storm. A backup generator would kick into gear soon enough, restoring partial power to the house.

Rain continued to pelt heavily against the windows. A loud crack of thunder rattled the windows. You wondered at all the recent events were starting to pile on. What else could happen? You almost dared the world to throw something else your way.

The world took you up on that challenge.

The book, left wide open, snagged your drowsy attention. The light from your phone spilled onto it, illuminating the pictures. Every time the house shook from a boom of thunder, so did the pages. It rippled almost, like water, and expanded to the other edges of the book before disappearing.

You reached a hand forward, eyes widened in shock as you skimmed your fingers along the surface. They threatened to sink into the white space, but you didn’t have enough courage to reach any deeper. Words and images undulated with the motion. You sat there for a few moments, entranced and almost completely forgetting about the violent storm beating around and above.

The light of your phone went out. Left idle for too long, the screen had timed out, leaving you in pitch darkness. You never had the chance to turn it back on.

A thin arm shot out from the pages, it fingers touching your hair in its blind grab.

You screamed loudly, scooting backwards as fast as you could. Your back painfully collided with the coffee table, the corner poking you in the middle of your back. You ignored it, too busy staring, horrified, at the gloved hand sticking out of your book. A hand attached to an arm lacking any type of human flesh, just the bare bone minimum. It bent down, and the fingers curled around the edge of coffee table. It gave a few test pulls, before another hand came out. It grasped the table edge, just like the other.

Mouth open wide, you watched, terrified, as the hands began to pull.

The pages rippled violently as something began pushing through from the other side. It formed a face, and a pale elongated head suddenly emerged from the white. The thing slowly looked up, the two tiny pinpricks of light within the empty voids of its skull looking up at you from its position, half way inside your book and half way out. It seemed distinctly familiar, and you blinked once at the thought.

“HELLO HUMAN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So extra note here. The basic premise of this story was inspired by a fic I read a long time ago on fanfiction.net, who I think was inspired by The Mysteries of Harris Burdick.
> 
> I mean who wouldn't want these skeles coming out of one of your books? Well, besides Reader of course.


	3. Day of the Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I be surprised that it's the side story people like more?  
> Maybe not. To be fair I didn't expect so many to be interested in it, period. Hope you guys enjoy <3

You blinked at the words.

You didn’t know how to reply to that. If you did, you doubted you could squeeze it past your compressed voice box. So, you kept quiet and watched with terrified eyes as the utterly inhuman creature began to draw itself the rest of the way out of the book. The entire upper torso was revealed as it used the oak table to pull, and you took notice of its attire. It was dressed up in some type of armor, a blindingly red fabric wound around its cervical column. You scooted to the side, the table no longer in the way of your back-up.

It hardly paid much attention to you now, focused on crawling its way free of its black and white confines, face towards the carpet. Its hips and lower body began to leverage through. As its long legs wrenched of the book, it rammed face first into your carpet in an ungraceful heap.

You slowly shuffled towards the back of the couch, nails digging into fuzzy fabric with each inch. A terrible hiding place but what choice did you have?

The creature – a skeleton, your mind supplied helpfully, the stuff of nightmares and horror films – bounded up into a standing position like the fall never happened. The book pages violently rippled once more, the tips of another boney hand poking through, and curiosity got the better of your simple mind. Behind the sofa with your head peaking around the corner, you watched as another skeleton began filing in though. Their fingers were curled around the bottom of the table like the first one had been moments before.

Your skull throbbed, warning the onset of a headache. It was impossible these monsters were coming out of your book. These made up characters weren’t supposed to exist, let alone scare people by clawing free of books. Their world was supposed to be fake, and only become real whenever one got trapped in their thoughts.

As the tall skeleton helped pull the new one out the rest of the way, you ducked behind the couch again. An audible thud signaled its feet finding the ground. You bit your knuckles to hold back shaky breaths.

“OH, WHERE DID THEY GO?” The first, louder skeleton, mused. Oh. That was the sound of a stuttering heart contemplating stroke.

“who, bro?”

The low, unfamiliar baritone of the new voice reverberated throughout the room. You fought back the little giggle that crawled up your throat, panic creeping through your veins at a steady pace. It felt odd to have laughter in your throat when most of you wanted to cry.

Your eyes drifted towards the hallway.

Would you be able to get to the front door? No, too far. The kitchen and backyard was the safer bet. You sucked a lung full of air in, and silently creep to the other side of the couch. If you didn’t proceed with the utmost care, your life could end before you registered what happened.

The very personifications of _death_ were in your living room.

Mai had been on to something, Mai had sensed it. You cheated death too many times to be so lucky for long. You were going to die this time. You’d never graduate and save the world with medicine, never marry, never find a reason as to why your father had–

Shaking your head, you shooed the dangerous thoughts away. No, not now.

“I DON’T KNOW, BUT I SAW A HUMAN EARLIER.”

You felt the blood drain, pooling in your heart to work overtime and pump adrenaline into your system. There was no time better than now to start running for your life. You slowly shifted from a kneeling position, crouching behind your cover. Taking a silent breath in through your nose, you bolted.

Your bare feet thudded against the carpet, eyes trained on the door through the threshold. Aching legs pushed hard, the muscles and tendons inside pulled taut at the strain. Just as you thought you might make it outside, your body harshly jerked to a stop by some unseen force pressing down on you. The whiplash of motion flung you backwards. You threw your arms out to break your fall, but the pain never came.

Blinking open eyes once clenched shut, the dark ceiling swam into view. Ceiling? Yes, the wooden ceiling ark hovering high above and unvarnished in its old age, seeing as you found yourself near parallel to the floor. The only part of you still connected to the floor was the heels of your feet.

“for fall intents and purposes, looks like you’ve hit a pretty bad low bud.” The deep voice again.

You almost floated off the ground at an impossible degree, apparently defying gravity. Before you knew it, you were righted and spun around to face the creatures by that same heavy force.

‘Oh my god.’ You kept your head down, quivering from head to toe. ‘Move dammit, move!’ You couldn’t even budge your limbs to attempt another escape, your body locked up and rooted in place. You didn't know if it was your eyes themselves, or if the lighting in the room was really getting duller. It was like looking through a mirror that had foggy edges, clearest in the center and even then it was hard to see.

"what's the matter, skeleton got your tongue?" You shook harder. If you let out a sound now it would probably be an unholy shriek born from the amalgamation of your spinning thoughts and dread. Christ, a skeleton was punning at you. What has your short-lived life come to?

The tall skeleton’s audible groan at the jokes isn't quite enough to drown out short one’s chuckle. "BROTHER REALLY? MUST YOU DO THIS NOW?" You’d have winced at sheer volume behind the voice if you weren’t currently paralyzed.

“well, I thought that one was kinda humerus.”

The tall one stifled another groan. You could almost visualize it pinching the bridge of its non-existent nose, as if trying to get rid of a headache. “ENOUGH WITH THE JOKES! YOU'RE SCARING THE HUMAN WITH YOUR AWFUL PUNS!”

“heh, guess you’re right bro. so, uh, hey kid.”

Heart caught in your throat, you slowly forced your gaze up. Ratty pink slippers and knee-high vermillion boots made you stare. The white stripped black shorts and leg, er, bones for days connected to both sets of footwear had your brows creasing. Two hands were shoved into the pockets of the shorter skeleton’s oversized jacket. The fluffy hoodie sat sloppily half zipped up over the simple white t-shirt hanging loosely on its broad stature. Your eyes trailed up further past the tall one’s blue shorts latched with a golden belt to a pristine white chest plate, then shifted right. That’s as far as you got.

Bright against the black hollows of its skull, your eyes clashed with the amused white…dots? The eye sockets somehow had a sleepy sort of relaxation to them. Its toothy smile lazily stretched into a wide grin.

“are you the owner of this book?”

Of course, you did what anyone would in your situation.

You screamed.

Both flinched under the abrupt ear-splitting noise, despite no ears in sight. The lights in the sockets of the shorter one winked out entirely and you felt the light pressure locking you in place dissipate. Legs working, you didn’t hesitate to slip into kitchen.

You found yourself lost between 'thank fuck' and 'what the fuck'.

Then…

Ah.

An awful idea. An awful, awful idea.

Logic would've made you grab your phone and punch in the emergency line. Logic would've made you think about how this was stupidity, insanity, you're better off running as the chances of this working are minuscule. But fear, fear that controlled you, that currently made everything in your mind a living hell, had now spilt enough fuel for the embers of a fire to finally start. Your body moved before you could persuade yourself this was too awful an idea to run with. Maybe escape was an impossibility, and something deep inside you knew. So you didn't sprint for the back door.

The air started to get heavier. It was almost like there was a sudden pressure in the room, and it felt like you were suffocating. In your peripheral vision, you saw the skeletons enter the room and shorter one’s hand reaching out, a faint blue glowing around its hand, but there was no time for fright. You skidded to a stop beside the counter and spun around to face them with your biggest butcher knife already drawn from your silverware drawer.

"Stay away from me! I’ll kill you!" You probably looked like a cornered animal, but you’d taken them off guard, if only for a moment.

The tall one was now wringing its hands. Eye lights shifted from side to side in its orbits between both you and the other skeleton, probably trying to think of how to calm you down but clearly had no idea how to approach you. Sweat visibly beaded across the plane of its cranium and you stared harder than it should have warranted. The smile on the short one, you realized with numb disbelief, hadn't even shifted.

The fuel set down by fear heaped upon fear ignited with a bang.

"Don't think I won't fucking do it!" you screamed at them, a shrill edge to your words, grip on the knife firm and steady. Because, while you were lying through your teeth – lie, lie, lie – about committing murder, in that moment you were perfectly willingly to hurt someone to protect yourself. You were furious, utterly furious at everything. Grandma. These two. The goddamn world.

It could all just fuck off.

The corners of short skeleton’s smile finally slackened, the eye lights of its gaze seemingly sharper, and you snarled at it. Somehow, even in the face of the humor displayed earlier, you instinctively felt that was the one you needed to be most wary of.

‘Do not underestimate me and think I wouldn't dare,’ you thought, still glaring it down with viciousness a saner version of yourself would've been horrified by. ‘Because there was an edge I was teetering on and you have pushed me miles off it.’

It held your gaze. Your breathing ceased altogether as you watched as the gears in its mind seemed to turn in thought, looking at something that wasn't there. A minute passed. Perhaps more, perhaps less, it was hard to tell when everything hung so precariously in the balance and one single move would lead to a rapid series of deaths. Its eyes darted back towards the tall one, then flicked down to the knife, taking in the image of your desperate form before letting its eye sockets slide shut. You flinched violently as it moved its hand again, thinking worst was about to occur.

"...fine. "

The hand dropped against its side, shoved back into a pocket. All at once the heavy feeling that’d been creeping on you once more fell with it. You couldn't spare more than a glance for the motion, flexing your fingers around the hilt of the knife and smothering the feeling of relieving victory. Stay aware. You have won a battle but not the war.

“we’ll stay over here. so, what now?" it asked.

What now indeed. Honestly, you really hadn't thought you'd get this far; to the point where the power was shifting in your favour.

Your sanity slowly crawled back from the dark depths of your mind to replace the overwhelming fury. You tried to cling to the anger, your life rode on your ability to save face. As it stood, running was a terrible idea. You'd have to turn your back to them at one point and the second you did you lost all power over the situation. You didn't trust them to let you leave either.

But you couldn't hang onto the knife like this forever.

“What the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?!” You spat the words out like they burned your tongue.

“heh, uh, can you be a pal and please put the knife down, then we’ll talk?” Mouth drawn into an unfriendly smile spanning the lower half of its expression, you had the distinct impression it didn’t like you. Unsurprising.

You scowled, “And let you murder me? Not today Death! Tell me now or I use this!”

“I AM SORRY WE SCARED YOU HUMAN,” You think it was attempting a reassuring smile. Perhaps it thought you were crazy. You felt like it. “BUT MY BROTHER AND I TRULY MEAN NO HARM TO YOU. PLEASE BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY WE REALLY ONLY WISH TO TALK.”

Brother? What part of a skeleton constituted a reason for it to identify as a male? Or female for that matter? They’re nothing but bones! “Start talking!”

Tall skeleton propped a hand on his hipbones, the other pressed against the center of his chest. Or should you call it a ribcage? He grinned, striking a second pose. The red fabric you now recognized as a slightly tattered scarf billowed in nonexistent wind. “FOR STARTERS, I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! NYEH HEH HEH!”

The other shrugged halfheartedly, eyes focused off to the side. “hey, th’ name’s sans. sans the skeleton. knife to meet you.”

“Okay, _Sans and Papyrus_ , now tell me what you’re doing in my home?”

Papyrus seemed to deflate a little at your lack of starstruck-ness, shifting uneasily on his feet. “THE BOOK.”

At this, you arched a brow. “Say that again?”

Now it’s the skeleton who’s confused. “I’M NOT SURE WHAT IS SO CONFOUNDING ABOUT THIS HUMAN. YOU SAW SANS AND I EMERGE FROM YOUR MYSTICAL PORTAL BOOK.”

You bristled. “Bullshit.” That and everything else up until now was all a hallucination. Or a hoax. You jabbed an accusing finger at them. “You’re not supposed to be real. Things like you only exist in fairy tales and folklores.”

That’s right. Really, what were you thinking? How utterly ridiculous! You’d sooner believe you were being punked over fictional monsters crawling out of your dead grandma’s book in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Sans scoffed, expression neutral as you chanced a glance at him. “oh c'mon now, we’re real alright. real as the sun in the sky and the–”

“Don’t get all philosophical on me!” You felt another short rush of anger mixed in with the terror still squeezing your throat tight. These were guys in costumes in on the elaborate ruse to scare you while hidden cameras filmed your reactions, having a nice little chuckle at your expense. Well, let’s see who had the last laugh once they found themselves behind bars for breaking and entering. “Okay, you crazy lunatics, A+ for creativity of dressing up as skeletons but it looks like getting an honest answer is useless. I'll let the cops deal with this one."

The two exchanged a look, a silent conversation taking place between them. Papyrus then stepped forward, drawing your gaze to him. “WHAT IF WE COULD PROVE WE’RE REAL?”

Doubt fluttered across your features, although you would be lying if you didn’t want to hear the excuse to rationally explain all this away. You gestured for him to carry on. A bony hand gripped the top of his right humerus, near the juncture of the shoulder blade. Without fanfare, he gave a light grunt and tugged.

The arm popped clean off.

It left you with a nice view of the interior of his scapula. Your stomach roiled.

He regarded it with nonchalant ease, like the clean detachment of the bone from the socket joint was an everyday occurrence, and placed the limp limb on the ground a foot away from him. You stared, unmoving, watching the appendage with such anticipation that it must've looked hilarious to an outsider.

It’s a prop, all rationality in you shrieked. Papyrus popped off a fake detachable arm. It wasn’t real.

The arm twitched.

A tiny movement, almost small enough to have been the result of the wind that blew around Papyrus’ scarf. Then another one. And another. And another. And another.

The phalanges of the hand flexed then clenched into a tight fist before it undid the action, almost as if it were experimenting with its motions. There was the distinct sound of bone clacking against bone.

You made a choked noise when the arm began to rise into the air by itself, as though it was being pulled on by wires. Except it still made testing flexes at the joints. Tears pricked your eyes, not out of anger but sheer unadulterated horror. It floated over to Papyrus and settled firmly in the still attached hand. He proceeded to align it with the arm socket, a loud crack signifying it clicked into its rightful place.

You sliced a red line across your finger on the razor edge without warning, almost hitting the bone in your haste. You half expected dust to pour out from the wound rather than the crimson beads welling to the surface, steadily dripping to the tiled flooring.

Voices. You heard them but couldn’t make out the words. Black dots prickled the edge of your vision.

You barely acknowledged Papyrus, who seemingly materialized next to you, cradling the injured hand in his reattached pair. Sans’ stare held tints of hesitation and this kind of muted alarm. You hadn't noticed your breathing shift to an erratic stutter, unable to drag it back to normal, too busy sitting on the verge of a heart attack.

The two conversed more, the skeleton before you switching between figuring out how to ease the bleeding cut and looking at his sibling. The back and forth sounded muffled and echoey to your ears, like you stood in a hall and heard it from the other end a great distance away with a layer of cotton lacing your eardrums. Thoughts whirling through your head created a sort of tunnel vision.

Tall skeleton asked you something now, gently placing his hands on your tense shoulders. Then he did it again. Once more after that. What he said you didn’t know but the way he refused to break eye contact with you, against your better judgment, had your head slowly nodding.

It was a bit of a motion blur, being led on unsteady feet and deposited on the couch, shudders racking your form the whole way.

Something firm caught hold of your face and your forehead went warm. The sensation of the smooth texture sinking into your cheeks grounded you enough for the two sharp and tiny lights to take up the entirety of your focus. You were helpless against the small circles gently kneaded into the pliable flesh, gradually coaxed into a calmer state as your eyes slid shut and you slumped into the rhythmic sensation. Your hand slowly reached up to touch the source of it, but it disappeared altogether, replaced by another pair of hands gripping your shoulders.

“HUMAN?” Your eyes fluttered open, hand falling back to your side. The tall skeleton had knelt to your level with brow bones furrowed with concern. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT NOW?”

"No... Yes? No. I'm not okay."

”I REALIZE THE GRAND ENTRANCE OF MY BROTHER AND I IS A LOT TO TAKE IN BUT WORRY NOT. AS I SAID BEFORE, WE WILL NOT HURT YOU.” You doubt you’ve ever heard a sentence that packed with sincerity or assurance in your life.

Fatigue crept into your limbs. Only a few hours ago you were talking to your friends, laughing at jokes, playing video games. Now look at you. A pent up wreck of emotions being comforted by a skeleton. He was still terrifying to you in this low light but you supposed if you were going be killed, the deed would’ve been done by now. That, if anything, earned a little benefit of the doubt.

In the end, it was you who caused your own pain.

The stabbing ache in your back from your hasty retreat right into the table would blossom into a bruise tomorrow. Almost amputating your finger was by far the stupider action in retrospect. The cut stung and you’d get it checked out as soon as possible but the stiffness of your uninjured hand demanded greater attention, fingers curled painfully tight around the hilt of the knife you carried, red streaked across the silver surface.

Christ, you hadn’t realized you still carried it.

Trickles of shame and guilt mixed into the fear.

Gently, you pushed the skeleton’s hands off you then tossed the knife to the side. A metallic ring resonated as it bounced along the floor and clattered to a stop against a wall. You didn’t care where it was now, not after what you did. Nails dugs crescent furrows into your palms as you pressed the heel of your hand to your forehead, head hanging low.

You screamed in the faces of these two, then pointed a gleaming blade the length of your forearm at them. You showed almost no rational when you could’ve handled the situation in a calmer manner.

“I…I’m sorry.” The words were squeezed from your numb mouth in a wispy choked up mess, lungs burning. "I didn't think…just reacted…you came out of the book in the middle of the night during a storm…I…sorry. I didn't think. I just assumed the worst.”

Throughout this whole escapade the storm overhead continued to raged flashes of lightning lit up the night beyond your curtained windows as thunder rumbled. The generator kicked in at some point, the few lamps lining the living room walls breaking up the darkness to bask you all in dim lighting. "I still don't believe this isn't something I dreamed up on my own. You're probably not real. None of this is real."

"then what's the harm in playing along?" Again with the hands in pockets and lazy fake as hell smile, the brother had claimed one of the chairs opposite of the sofa. You were starting to think this casual body language was his default stance. "you had a bone to pick with us but you seem to be taking the whole situation well enough now." He added a wink to emphasize the pun and you tried not to stare. He had it all wrong. Your current chill was not chill. It's a super cocktail of terror and confusion blended with guilt so bad it evolved into calm.

You feel like you've transcended, forcefully enlightened from the mortal realm of consciousness into a higher state of being.

"WHAT’S YOUR NAME HUMAN?”

You blinked, confusion clear in your eyes as you looked up. Taking pity on you, the skeleton gestured to the cursed book responsible for this predicament. “IT MIGHT BECOME EXHAUSTING IF WE ONLY KNOW YOU AS ‘OWNER OF THE BOOK’ FROM NOW ON.”

“not that i want to interrupt anything but you _are_ the owner of this book right?” That was the second time he asked that, though you didn’t know what whoever owned the damn thing had to do with anything.

“I guess?” A brow bone raised at the tone of your statement. You knew it had come off as more a question, but the weird malleability of his facial bone structure was too distracting for you to elaborate. Blinking, you pulled the book onto your lap and skimmed through it for another look over.

There. The profiles of the very monsters before you, faded and lighter compared to all the others, as if someone tried to erase it but failed to do so completely. You ignored the individual partial body shots and combed through the basic details listed. “Okay. You’re Comic Sans…and you’re Papyrus, right?” At the nods, you turned back to the book. “So you’re both skeleton monsters. And it says you lived in a place called Snowdin…” You had no idea what ‘Current Residence: PP’ meant.

“THAT’S CORRECT.”

"Now, how do I get you two back there?" you asked. The sooner the better.

"you can't."

"What?!" You almost choked as you shot into an upright position, back ramrod straight as you trained an imploring stare on Sans. He did not. He did not say what you think he just said.

"we can’t reverse what happened. you called us here, so here we are," he sighed, shrugging.

Oh god, no.

Sans wasn’t going to put a damper on your hopes and dreams. There had to be a way to fix this. They couldn’t stay. You didn’t move into this new home to play landlady with couple of skeletons. "What do you mean I _called_ you here? I didn't call you here! I just left the book open for a little while and you guys popped out when the lights were cut!"

"doesn't change anything.” The skeleton looked about as thrilled to be here as you felt. “already took a peek at the book and it says it right there. none of us have a choice in the matter anymore."

The hell you didn’t. You ready to be done with this impromptu adventure. You’d shove him back into the book if it came down to it. Your mouth opened and you struggled to form a coherent protest that didn’t make you out to be an horrible person.

Papyrus broke the tense silence. "YOU STILL HAVEN’T TOLD US YOUR NAME HUMAN.”

A wave of exhaustion hit you and you rubbed one of your eyes, attention returning to their faces. "It hardly matters but I’m y/n." You knew when to give up on a matter, or at least temporarily. "Alright that’s it. I'm tired, and I would at least like a few hours of sleep before I have to get up and deal with this. I plan on having one night to enjoy my last moment of sanity. As for you two, you can stay in the guest bedroom for tonight. Because ain't no one touching mine. Agreed?”

If they even needed sleep was beyond you but you’d extend the offer. You had more space than you knew what to with inside the spacious house and it was the least you could do. You’d be sure to lock your room though. Trust wasn’t exactly strong at the moment for them to have free access any and everywhere.

“sure.”

“YES!”

Standing up and trudging past them towards the hallway, you suppressed a yawn before you continued talking. “Then we can sort this out tomorrow. Do not break anything while you are in here, and please don't be too snoopy."

They followed you easily enough up the stairs, turning left down the hall of the second floor towards the furthest room.

You opened the door to calm cream walls, a soft brown carpet, and two similarly tinted beds. A neutral colour scheme easy for anyone to work with. There was a sort of bay window on one side, with a comfortable sitting space. It was nice enough, designed for two after some renovations by Grandma in her old age, but also a room your mother wouldn’t care too much about if it was fiddled with. You planned on moving into it, but ultimately there was just too much space for you.

On the other hand, Papyrus seemed absolutely delighted by the amount of space available to him, making excited comments here and there about the décor, or remarking on differences between the bed and his racecar bed like the comforter. Okay.

Sans already seemed to have nodded off, eagle spread across the mattress, light snores drifting from his person. You didn’t want to contemplate physics defying skeleton physiology on top of everything else.

You turned to leave, one foot out the door.

“Y/N. I HAVE SOME THINGS TO SAY. FIRST, THANK YOU FOR ACCOMADATING US!”

You spared a glance back and took in Papyrus’ smile. How can he still look so cheerful? He was in a completely new place with a human that had held him at knife point and no idea how to return home. Anyone else would never be as calm in that situation. “It doesn’t make up for pulling a weapon on you. But…yeah.”

At the reminder, the smile fell slightly. Then it returned brighter than ever. “YOUR ACTIONS WERE WORRISOME AT FIRST. HOWEVER! I, PAPYRUS, SAW GREAT POTENTIAL WITHIN YOU! I KNEW YOU DIDN’T WANT TO HURT MY BROTHER OR I, SO I DECIDED TO TRUST YOU TO MAKE THE RIGHT DECISION.”

You’re gaping now. “But what I did…I…I’m an awful person for even–“

Papyrus was shaking his head now. “EVERYONE CAN BE A GREAT PERSON IF THEY TRY. I HARDLY HAVE TO TRY AT ALL BUT YOU DIDN’T DO A VIOLENCE! THAT IS WHAT’S MOST IMPORTANT.”

Your grip on the door frame trembled.

“DON’T WORRY HUMAN, I WILL GLADLY BE YOUR FRIEND AND TUTOR! ONE DAY YOU CAN BECOME ALMOST AS GREAT AS ME. THEN YOU WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT SUCH CONUNDRUMS ANY LONGER! NYEH HEH HEH!”

 “…Night Papyrus.”

“GOOD NIGHT, Y/N!”

* * *

 

You had to have a cup of hot chocolate.

It always calmed you down. The stress threatened to return with a vengeance, and you felt like you were either going to burst into hysterical tears, maniacal laughter, or pull out that butcher knife again and start a mass murdering spree upon your unsuspecting neighborhood. You tore open a packet of chocolate powder, mixed it in some milk, and nuked it in the microwave.

Sitting at your kitchen table, you tapped a foot repeatedly against the tiles as you rapidly sipped the hot chocolate.

You didn't know exactly what to do. Carrying them anywhere was out of the question. The police station was on the other side of town, and it wasn't like you could just say: 'Oh, hey, yeah, this is one of several monsters that crawled through my book during the last storm. Could you, ya' know, do something?' That would be a great way to earn a one-way ticket to incarceration and a brand new straitjacket. Besides, even if you did turn them in, for all you knew they could break out of any of normal prison with their hands cuffed behind their backs.

Another reason you didn't feel the urge to turn them in was because, despite your fear, they didn't seem so bad now that you were in your right mind.

If this went on longer than a few days, what then? You couldn’t exactly throw them out to be met with reactions just as bad, if not worse than yours. Your conscience wouldn’t allow that. That meant keeping them until a method of sending them home could be sorted out.

Feeding and clothing them into less conspicuous attire was something you needed to consider too. You weren't made of money. You'll need to start looking for better paying jobs. Maybe find some under the table work for them after a few weeks if they were still here. Geez, you are never trusting another book again.

Slowly, you stood from your seat at the table, dumped the cup in the sink and headed for your room. You quickly changed into pyjamas and slipped into bed, the night’s events running through a mental rewind in your head as you let sleep take you. So many questions that needed answers flooding through your thoughts as you started what was bound to be a short sleep. One question stuck though, repeating itself time and time again.

What the hell did you get yourself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've got a general plot planned for the first half of this story but if people got suggestions feel free to fling 'em round my way.
> 
> Also I think I can maintain these Wednesday updates. Cheers.


	4. Credence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've got trust issues, I've got trust issues, everyone has trust issues. Except Papyrus.

You awoke with a gasp.

The faded wood of your grandmother's ceiling spanned the entirety of your wide eyed sight. A moment later the other details of the room sharpened into focus. You could see the lines and notches in the natural wood and count the grains if you wanted to. Taking a deep breath, you turned over in bed and sat up, wincing as you stretched your back.

Cursing, you slipped a hand under your pyjama top and felt for the stinging ache. Your bruises might have been easy enough to see, but a bit of foundation would be enough to hide it. Lifting your shirt up, you walked into the bathroom and checked to see how noticeable the marks were.

"And here I hoped it was a hallucination," you said out loud, dropping the fabric and turning around to grab a brush for your teeth.

Back in the room, a frown tugged at your mouth as you watched the light of dawn peeking out over the horizon. You had managed a few hours asleep. Like it or not, it’d have to do for the day.

Grabbing your phone, you dug through your duffle bag. You winced as your hand bumped against something hidden inside and examined the wound on your finger. It was still fresh and tender to the touch, not yet showing the beginnings of scabbing over. That meant a trip to get some stitches.

In the end, you rolled up the ends of a distressed pair of jeans. You paired it with brown point toe flats and an off the shoulder sweater with the word LOVE swirled in pink floral letters across your chest.

There was a message from Mai about how bored she was, being with her parents the entire day, and you responded as you made your way downstairs by sending off a sympathetic note.

Now what to do about the skeletons? You didn't trust them alone in your house, you didn't trust them period, but you had to. There was no choice. You had to pay for more food and manage the bills, balance university and work along with that. While you could manage yourself, extra company was another matter altogether. On the inside, every time you thought about that your mind would flash with painful panic. You hoped to god no more would come out to the book, but If any more started pouring through you didn't now how you’d going about affording to live that way.

You slapped a hastily written note on the kitchen table.

_‘Had to run early this morning to get my hand patched up. I’ll be gone for most of the day after that thanks to work. All basic amenities are provided in the house, just please don’t destroy the place. I’d like to return to a house that hasn’t been burned down.’_

* * *

Two hours later, you walked out of the hospital, lines of thread crisscrossing the width of your finger. Thankfully you had a full day of work to keep your mind and body busy. Monday and Wednesdays you were a 'visiting angel' that helped elderly clients with house maintenance and other difficult chores. Two hours at four houses each and you were done for the day. You had made it nearly twelve hours without having to think about the skeletons and dreams when the traffic stopped you dead in the street, trapping you inside your stuffy van.

You tried to call your mother again, just for someone to talk to, but once again the land line did nothing but ring and ring and ring. Hana had an outing today, and you didn’t want to bother Sine so soon after the fire. Shane was busy with his dad as well, but you could at least leave a message.

"So…if I cut off my leg and swing it at you…is that considered me kicking you or me hitting you? 'Cause I'm not so sure I know the answer anymore. I thought it would be hitting at first but I now doubt. Evening traffic does that to you. I doubt everything. Thanks for keeping me entertained. I'll talk to you soon."

After brief contemplation, you fired off a quick text to Mai about the symptoms of being fergalicious.

 **> Fr: MaiOnlyOne** : the symptoms of being fergalicious is the same as milkshakes

 **> To: MaiOnlyOne** : All the boys to the yard?

 **> Fr: MaiOnlyOne** : and they're like, it's better than yours  
**> Fr: MaiOnlyOne** : dam right its better than yours  
**> Fr: MaiOnlyOne** : why does dam look funny?

 **> To: MaiOnlyOne** : It's damn, yours is the water blocking kind.

 **> Fr: MaiOnlyOne** : I got you to cuss, I'm screensaving this and showing it to your mom.

Left with nothing else to do, you turned to the radio. When you closed your eyes, the one thing you tried your hardest not to think about was the one thing your mind went straight to.

"What does it matter if I believe in it or not?" you asked aloud, punching the volume button on your radio, sending you back into silence.

You liked to believe you were a realist. Maybe when you were younger you would have believed in something like this, but you were well past the age of magic mermaids and unicorns. People who believed they could see things and talk to little people were the types you sorted prescriptions for. Your grandmother had been one of those types, though no one ever talked about it since it was so well hidden.

Is that why you had the tome in your house?

Someone behind you honked loudly and you snapped out of your musings in time to pull up the extra two and a half feet and continue the crawl until your exit came up on the right hand side. Furiously flipping on your blinker, you pulled off the pavement to make it around a couple of cars who weren't exiting. Your lights flashed angrily up and down as you bounced in and out of a ditch without issue.

By the time you neared your road twilight dyed the sky orange and the rural road looked fierce and overgrown in its light. There were a couple of houses that shared the same skinny two way road that looked more like a driveway than any public street had a right to. Yours was at the far end and took up the most land, a couple minutes worth of extra driving.

Parking inside the tin roofed shed that stood detached from the rest of the house, you made sure to brake before you hit the far end with your monster sized grill again. Your van was a special sort of beast. It was larger than it needed to be and a huge pain in the butt to maneuver, but it was safe and sort of made you feel like a bad ass when pulled up alongside hybrids. Mai had affectionately dubbed it the Behemoth and the name sort of stuck.

Bringing your things in, you locked the side door again. "Hey, anyone home?"

You tossed your bag onto the chair and toed off your sneakers. When you received no reply, you scanned the kitchen over a few times. You tugged at your lower lip, teeth lightly gnawing at the bruised flesh. Peeking in the living room yielded no sight of the skeletons. No rooms on the lower floor did, not even the closets. You circled back to the empty kitchen and fell into a chair with a relieved sigh.

"Maybe it was all a really bad dream." you muttered, sliding your jacket off your shoulders and throwing it over the arched crest rail of the chair.

"nope, we’re real.”

You nearly fell out of the chair, clamping your jaw shut as you suppressed the inhuman noise scratching the inside of your throat. Righting yourself, you whirled around to be treated with the confounding sight of Sans reclined against the kitchen counter. Bemused, your eyes flicked from the skeleton to the side door, to the thresholds.

 _How?_ You didn't even hear him enter, much less sneak up behind you. You were certain the back door hadn’t been opened, the hallways were in your line of vision, and the kitchen was void of any presence.

"careful kid," he chuckled. You fought the urge to back away as he pushed off the counter and claimed a seat at the table across from you, elbow propped on the burnished finish. “wouldn't want you hurting yourself any more than you already have. ’sides I wanted to have a little chat with you before I go get papyrus.”

You already knew that this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. Lips drawn into a thin line, you waited for him to say whatever he had to say. Silence stretched on, slowly edging into the realm of uncomfortable tension.

“You, uh, said you wanted to talk?” You almost winced, the sound of your voice akin to a gunshot in the stillness permeating the air.

A hum of acknowledgement, the soft sound as the chin of his tilted head rested atop a closed fist, other hand flat against the wooden surface.

But nothing came.

Your fingers itched to scratch at your cheek, neck, to mess with anything, but pinned under the intent stare you felt like a mouse caught in claws of a cat’s paws.

In the moment you returned the look with one of your own, stealing the chance to properly examine your temporary monster ward. It was the first time you were looking at him in decent lighting without overwhelming fear, panic, or anger clouding your vision.

Sans was... odd. He looked, in all honesty, like a large monster from his girth, but his height fell short some inches than yours. Unlike the normal anatomy model skeletons hung by the door of your biology classes, he had much wider and rounder features, as if invisible fat clung to his bones. You weren’t sure if skeletons could even be described as fat, when they had none to speak of, but his rounded features did suggest such a description.

You looked the hand supporting his head, phalanges curled inward. You traced the ivory structure with your eyes down to where the knobby carpal bones of his wrist met the radius and ulna peeking out of his sleeve. They looked a bit different from normal human ones. Thicker, probably sturdier, and akin to the size of your hand. The weirdly malleable bone of his skull allowed for movement of skeletal features, bending with the twists of his expressions and the stretch of his grin whenever he’d spoken thus far.

Your eyes moved up from his mouth and you met the eye lights boring into you, breathing hitched.

Brows set in a relaxed curve over his eye sockets shifted minutely under the scrutiny. The sockets themselves were black, gaping holes that allowed for no light aside from the unnaturally bright pinpricks serving as his pupils to escape. Even then the small, white lights focused on you seemed weirdly flat against the darkness they flitted about in.

A single warning came in the form of the thickening pressure in the air and the first wave came.

Danger.

The air felt like it was carrying the concept, wrapping tight around you and forcing its way down your constricted throat. Your senses clogged with the cloying feeling, lungs threatening to stutter as your muscles locked up. You wanted to look away, but couldn't. It was as if his gaze had shackled you to the spot, forcing you to experience this all no matter how much it was beginning to physically hurt.

You breathed.

The simple act that you took so for granted momentarily took you aback and you blinked in confusion.

You opened your mouth, not sure as to what you were about to say, but Sans cut you off with a drawl. “listen kid, about yesterday, i get that you were confused. me and paps were too. anyone would be. ‘s not everyday we take a take a trip like that so i can’t really fault you for reacting the way you did. i know some humans can get violent when they get scared.”

“I don’t expect forgiveness for that.” The corners of his grin slightly faltered. You pushed forward with your thoughts, not giving him the chance to respond. “I’d be surprised if you did. It was terrible. I know it was survival instinct and fear controlling me but I still regret doing what I did because I could’ve hurt you or your brother. I’m not one who’s quick at accepting stuff like that as bygones right off the bat, and you didn’t strike me as the type of person either.”

“…heh. you’re a strange human, y/n.”

“What?”

"nothing. forgiveness or not we’re stuck here, so we might as well let it go for now. i’m not one for holding grudges anyway." He extended his other hand across the table, palm facing up. An easy maneuver as you both seated along opposite sides the long edge of the table.

Dumbfounded, you finally tore your gaze away to look at the offered hand. Hesitation gripped you as you reached your own hand forward, stalling your movements.

"'s the matter? don't you know how to make a new friend?” he asked, eyes never moving away from you even once. “c’mon, be a pal and let’s shake on it. don’t leave me hanging.”

Steeling your nerves, you wrapped your hand around his. The smooth bone of the phalanges squeezed tighter.

You were jerked forward and your stomach collided with the tabletop, the flat edge digging into your skin almost painfully. Sans was standing now, grin taut. His form, though shorter, seemed to tower over you as he leaned forward until his face was mere inches from yours. You felt your blood chill, the slow inevitable crawl of it petrifying your veins and skin with frost. Gooseflesh pimpled up and down your arms like hives as a cold sweat broke out across your forehead.

"before we sweep all this under the rug i’m gonna direct about this, just so we’re clear." The assured retribution simmering behind his eye lights betrayed the falsities of the usual lazy tone, a frigid lilt hidden underneath it. “never pull another move like that on my bro again. if you hurt him in any way, i can guarantee you that you’re gonna have a bad time. **understand?** ”

You believed him.

With great difficulty, you stiffly nodded.

His grip tightened a touch more. After a few moments he let go, satisfied his message sunk in. “good. i think we’ll get along fine, kiddo. as long as you keep what I said in mind.”

He sauntered out of the kitchen, heavy thuds soon signalling his ascent up the stairs. You sat in place for a moment longer as you struggled to draw in breaths into quivering lungs, eyes unwilling to move from the table top and find Sans still there.

Your limbs felt like noodles, limp and uncooperative, terrified tremors running through them, but you managed to eventually work your way onto your feet and set to making a pasta dinner for three, numbly moving through the motions. In your current state, you couldn’t manage to make anything more complicated than that. Again, the question haunting you last night rang through your mind.

‘What did I get myself into?’

Your phone buzzed on the table after a short while. Shane.

 **> Fr: KinkShaning** : it's hitting  
**> Fr: KinkShaning** : and disturbing  
**> Fr: KinkShaning** : I'm worried about you

You set aside the Prego pasta sauce and typed out a reply with two fingers.

 **> To: KinkShaning** : When do you not worry about me?

 **> Fr: KinkShaning** : when you're dead  
**> Fr: KinkShaning** : no way your not getting into heaven, but earth will fck u ovr

 **> To: KinkShaning** : Good thing I'm not built to last.

Your confrontation with Sans more than proved that.

There was a break in the conversation where you assumed Shane was pulled away from his phone. A few minutes later there was a new text, but you had to finish with the pasta on the stove before looking in and answering it.

 **> Fr: KinkShaning** : You're invited to come for dinner tomorrow night. The fam is worried about their other daughter.

 **> To: KinkShaning** : I'm glad someone worries. :)

 **> Fr: KinkShaning** : Mom?

 **> To: KinkShaning** : Who else?

 **> Fr: KinkShaning** : We promise to make something other than pizza. Whatever you want.

 **> To: KinkShaning** : You know me, I'll eat whatever. Speaking of dinner, I'm making mine now. Can I come by early tomorrow?

 **> Fr: KinkShaning** : no work?

 **> To: KinkShaning** : That was today.

 **> Fr: KinkShaning** : I'll see you around 1:00 PM

You tapped the time and saved it to your calendar even though you knew you wouldn't need the reminder.

Sending an animated cat that grinned with human teeth, you shut off your phone, retrieved the tome from the living room and sat down at the kitchen table. You’d taken simple glances at the pages during your earlier skim of the tome, at monster photos and occasionally their names. But now? You were going to analyse the details with vigor; maybe figure out what was happening.

Depending on the information available about a monster, two or three lined a page. Alongside a photo and short list of details, an odd yellow rectangle accompanied it. It was set above the lines of text, and always adjacent to the picture. Inside it sat one word.

*Check.

Sometimes, like with the skeleton brothers, those bipedal goat monsters, or that creepy flower, a monster’s profiles warranted an entire page to themselves and those were the ones you would focused on. You spent a little time reviewing the skeletons before searching for the page Sans mentioned last night. The one detailing the conditions of the predicament.

You found it at the very end of the first unlocked section.

Apparently, the book functioned as an anchor to the alternate world brimming with monsters. Leaving it out in complete darkness acted as the trigger, plucking the monsters from their world and summoning them to this one. Once pulled into a different world, and unless specific extenuating circumstances are met, return is not possible.

“What’s this? ...Bonding?”

Each summoning of a monster instigated a partial bond to with the Owner. The Owner acts as a tether and often overlooks the monster as long as they remain in this world. It's the responsibility of the monster to stay within a reasonable distance to his or her Owner or else all parties may experience side effects. Exertion of the bond, often due to long periods of separation, or strenuous use of abilities can result in mild discomfort at most but it is usually nothing serious.

A monster may recognize this information without prompting and instinctively seek out the current Owner of the tome.

No wonder Sans asked.

The lower half of the page was too faded to be read, text illegible to your squinting eyes.

Damn it.

With a sigh you shut the book, pushing it away from you when you heard a voice from the doorway.

“hey.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from flinching, scooting the chair like you couldn’t get far away enough from Sans. As if that made a difference.

Of course he noticed.

He took a step back with both hands raised in a placating gesture. Maybe it was out of reassurance for you, but too little too late.

Seeing you still on edge, he averted his eyes and brought his hand back behind his head, almost as if to rub nervous tension out of the neck muscles he lacked. “sorry bout before, but i had to get my point across.”

“I get it,” you said.

He blinked, startled. To be fair, the utter flatness of your tone surprised even you.

“k.” He quietly slumped into a seat after a moment. The short, awkward silence didn’t last long. “thought about talking to you about this yesterday after paps finally fell asleep, but you looked like you were on your last nerves down here. i guess humans get all twitchy when they’re spooked.”

Wait a minute. Your eyes snapped back to him. You stared long enough to soon notice a slight sheen glistening on his skull. Your mind does an incredulous double take, reeling at the sight. Was he sweating?

Last you checked bones, his and yours, weren’t porous enough to perspire. Then again, why did you even bother rationalizing anything about these monsters anymore? You may as well throw out anything you knew about skeletons out the window to join your sanity in the front yard. They defied any sensible explanation. Their very existence in your world was a breach of logic. They likely lacked any organs to speak of and could walk, talk, blink, and probably much more that you had yet to be surprised about yet.

It was still very disconcerting.

Why couldn’t this book stuff have happened to Hana? It was right up her main character alley.

"Look, I’m trying my best to take everything in stride and play nice here but I am really not liking what you just implied. Threaten me all you want but if you turn out to be some kind of creepy stalker-"

“it wasn’t stalking.”

"-or pull any more weird shit on me, I’ll have you strung up by the coccyx. I refuse let you be the reason my own home isn’t a safe place for me. Got it?”

“…crystal.”

Screw this guy. You may be terrified of him, but you wouldn’t roll over and let him walk all over you every time you spoke to each other. This was _your_ house, not his.

With a huff, you crossed your arms. “Alright, before we talk about any housing you need to know I’m severely out of my depth here. Explain where you came from, what is up with you skeletons, everything.”

...

“we’re made outta magic. all monsters are. like all living, sentient beings we have a soul,” he said.

What?

“and before you ask, no we’re not dead or the undead. we’re monsters that only look somewhat like human skeletons, we don’t follow the same rules. paps would tell you it’s because he thinks humans descended from skeletons.”

You press two fingers to your temple, hoping to assuage the budding headache. Mystical creatures, alternate worlds, and now this. You don’t drink, but now would be a good time for one. Magic was apparently a thing now.

What the actual fuck.

“Normally I’d argue against that, but it’s been a long day and you’re the monster here so hell if I know. Carry on.”

“monsters were trapped underneath a mountain for generations. we told you this yesterday, but me and my bro lived in snowdin for most of our lives. only recently in my world, the barrier put up by seven mages was broken and we were freed. we live on the surface now but humans didn’t take to well to discovering monsters were real and many humans aren’t too keen to put up with us after seeing us pour out of the mountain.” He paused, looking at you. “aside from our initial meeting, it’s nice to meet someone friendly compared to the people we deal with in our world.”

Damn, were things that bad over there?

He reclined back in the chair, gaze distant. “it’s not completely awful though. things are still being smoothed over, but monsters just want to live peacefully. humans aside, for the first time in ages we got to see the sun, the sky…the stars. i’m more than willing to put up with some bad people to keep paps on the surface."

"You might enjoy this part of the world as a whole." you replied, watching him raise an brow bone in curiosity. "We are known as the 'Peace Keepers'. Well, our country that is. Though I know that doesn't define all of us, and let me tell you there are assholes out there." Racists, drug dealers, rapists, gangs... "But generally speaking, we are pretty friendly people. Our world is probably not like yours."

"assumed as much." he said. "on that note, what is your world like compared to ours?"

You didn't know if he was trying to be friendly, doing some low key questioning, or a mix of the two. You thought to yourself, before shrugging. You didn't really care either way, these questions didn't bother you. It was better for them to know, lest they get accidentally shot at. "Well, I don’t know how different yours is from ours. For one thing you guys have monsters, we don't. We have a military, police force and other groups of higher ups, but none of them have any magic like you guys have."

"then what do they use to protect themselves or others?" he asked, curious. You frowned before continuing.

"They use guns, or things such as pepper spray. Guns are hand held devices that shoot people. One bullet, the thing that they shoot out, can kill in the blink of an eye you if aimed correctly. Very dangerous long ranged weapons."

"i see." he dipped his head, processing the information. "how often do they use these weapons? i’ve seen some of the soldiers carry them around before but I don’t think they ever had a need to pull them out."

"See, in our world – at least in our country, we don't really deal with war's or criminal activity compared to other countries." you said. "Most people who own guns do not bring them out and shoot random people. There are a handful who do, but that almost never happens where we are from. Our police normally bring them out when dealing with robbers, kidnappings, you know – all the baddie stuff. Though they sometimes un-holster them, they often and almost always never use them. Now, civilians have access to them, but we mainly use them for hunting. We have a lot of wild life, and people hunt for sport. Animals, not people of course. But you need to be trained and licensed before you use one. Every bullet you shoot is tracked in some way by our systems."

"it sounds so. do you have any guns?" he asked, adjusting himself in his seat. You went to respond, only to hear footsteps coming down the hallway and for Papyrus to enter the room, to join your conversation. You continued as if he had been there the whole time.

"No, I do not have guns. One of my friend’s father does since he hunts for sport, but I don’t. The only weapon I have besides the knives in this kitchen is a can of bear spray – and I only had that because sometimes there are bear problems in the area...“

Sans hummed, before turning his eyes to look at Papyrus, who was watching you both with curiosity. "GOOD EVENING Y/N! HOW WAS YOUR DAY? IS YOUR HAND BETTER?”

“It went alright. I’ll need to go back to the hospital in about two weeks to get these stitches removed though.”

"GREAT! HAVE YOU TALKED ABOUT LIVING ARRANGEMENTS YET?” he asked, sitting down in a chair beside Sans.

Sans paused for a moment, before nodding lightly. "we brought it up, but the conversation got a little off track. we were talking about her world, but i think we’re done with that for now. so what’s going on? you giving us the boot for being unwanted house guests?"

‘Maybe just you for that scare tactic.’

The embittered words sat on the tip of your tongue. “No. You two can live here.” came out of your mouth instead.

Upset as you were at his actions, you weren’t heartless. You couldn’t simply ignore the slight emotion in Sans’ voice when he was talking about his Papyrus or sky. A few days alone trapped in a cave was too much for you to consider, much less the untold amount of years they must’ve spent surrounded by darkness and rock.

Papyrus’ eye sockets….sparkled? Orange bursts of light against the darkness, as he clasped his hands together in front of him. "THANK YOU Y/N! I’M HAPPY YOU ARE WILLING TO HOUSE US IN OUR TIME OF NEED!” You gave a light smile. Papyrus was by far the lesser evil of the two. “I PROMISE WE WILL NOT BE LIKE FREELOADERS TO A CERTAIN EXTENT, AND WE WILL HELP WHEN NEEDED. YOU CAN TRUST US."

“I can trust you.” You mulled the words over in your mouth, brows lifting along with the corners of your lips. You considered that for a long moment, gaze firmly fixed on his face, head tilted as you thought.

Genuine trust. A precious commodity you didn’t often hand out, despite your generally friendly demeanor. It always seemed a little pointless, to trust wholeheartedly when there’s no reason to. It had to be earned. Something hardly achievable within the first day of meeting someone new.  

If you were being honest, Papyrus was making great headway.

“If you say so.”

“I DO, AND THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NEVER WRONG.”

“welfare a lot better with you kid.”

That earned a particularly loud groan from Papyrus.

You got up to deal with the spaghetti while the two were distracted. You strained the noodles and listened as increasingly bad puns, exasperated rebukes, and hidden smiles are traded, settling into a comfortable background noise. You’re probably going to have to get used to hearing this type of exchange on a daily basis. You’ll pray for Papyrus the moment he hears you crack your inevitable first pun around him.

Papyrus’ attention had returned to you now as you spooned a variety of shredded cheddar, sauce, and meatballs upon the heaps of plated pasta. “HUMAN? ARE YOU COOKING SPAGHETTI?!” he asked.

The excited note of Papyrus’ voice rang in your ears as you glanced back over your shoulder. “Yeah?” Grabbing two plates and a pair of forks, you placed them on the table before the two with a light clatter. “Are you familiar with it?

Papyrus instantly puffed up with pride. “OF COURSE! I AM AN EXPERT PURVEYOR IN THE FIELD OF PASTA! CRAFTER OF ONLY THE FINEST ARTISAN SPAGHETTI! MY SKILL IS UNPARALLELED!”

“you’re the coolest, paps.”

“NYEH HEH HEH!”

“That so?” you hummed, resting a hand on the back of your chair. You peeked at Sans. You’ve never quite seen someone eye food with the amount of skepticism he was levelling at his portion of spaghetti, picking at it with his fork. It wasn’t as if you poisoned it. “Maybe I can try a little some point.”

“WOWIE! YOU REALLY WISH TO PARTAKE IN SOME OF MY SPAGHETTI WITH ME?” You nodded and the eye sparkles are back. He may have been vibrating in place as well, excitement approaching critical mass. “FRET NOT HUMAN. I, MASTER CHEF PAPYRUS... WILL MAKE YOU ALL THE PASTA YOU COULD EVER WANT!”

By the time your gaze shifted back to Sans, you’re almost visibly taken aback by the lack of food. You turned away for twenty seconds, thirty tops, and the plate has been cleaned. The skeleton himself stared at empty dish in slight awe, as though he was unable comprehend that what he had tasted was different from whatever expectations had formulated in his mind.

“There’s more on the stove if you want some,” you said, a bit of your own pride seeping into the words.

Weariness pricked at your eyes and limbs. Your body was tired from the full day of work, and you knew you were used to crashing early on work nights. You sighed and straightened up. “If that’s all, and no one has anything else to bring up about living here then I’m gonna turn in for the night.”

Snatching up your own plate you bid the two good night, two similar farewells following you out into the hall.

Despite the little hiccup with Sans, the evening wasn’t…awful.

Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Sans, how do you expect to get girls at this rate if you keep hurling threats behind Papyrus' back? He means well though.
> 
> The chapter may seemed a little rushed at the end, but only because I had to cut it off before things spiraled out of control. A lot still has to be addressed between everyone before things set down.


	5. Do You Believe in Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a young girls heart; how the music can free her whenever it starts.  
> I'll tell ya about the magic, it'll free your soul.  
> But it's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock n roll.  
> Just go and listen. It'll start with a smile. It won't wipe off your face,  
> No matter how hard you try.

You settled in to eat, but it only took so long before you were back to having nothing to do. Cleaning up took less time than it should have, too; changing and brushing your teeth took even less. You sat on your bed and stared at the wall. You’re not in the state to panic. Not like the second this started. You’ve retained perfect control over your body and feelings.

You’re just breaking down on the inside.

The ‘grin and bear it’ method and not attacking anyone in an emotional burst was well and good, but it’s only day two and things are already stacking atop one another.

Certain things you simply never placed blind faith in. Viewing things through a critical lens, taking anyone’s word with a grain of salt, that was you. You thought you’d absorbed that you’d find a way to deal with the book, possible hallucinations, and the monsters somewhat the first night. Enough to function at least. Then with real magic, learning you were stuck in this mess for the unforeseeable future, and so forth thrown into the mix, the entire thing had completely knocked you off kilter once more.

Suppress, suppress, violently suppress. That was a good go to model for dealing with situations like this. Step back and ignore the invoked emotions, face it all with a patient smile until it all went away or deal with it at a much later date. But never solved anything, now did it? Left unchecked, unacknowledged and invalidated, the lid on that jar always cracked before long, splendiferously backfiring in your face.

But it was so difficult to consciously accept this fact.

The internal debate lasted until a soft pair of knocks against the door to your room startled you. You hesitated. Obviously one of the skeletons but with your thoughts in such disarray you were wary of even attempting to hold a conversation with anyone.

A second set of set of knocks sounded, louder this time.

You sighed, then prayed it was something quick to be over and done with. And that it wasn’t Sans. “Who there?”

“sherwood.”

Damn.

You contemplated telling him you had already turned in for the night but sleep was something you wanted to put off as long as possible for another looming reason. The dreams.

“Sherwood who?”

“sherwood like to come in and speak to you for a minute.”

“If this is another talk like the one in the kitchen then no thanks, my threat quota is good for the day.” You scoffed, unamused.

You heard shuffling from beyond the door, as though Sans was debilitating something. After a moment, he spoke, “i already told you, i don’t like holding grudges kid. it’s just a quick question.”

You heaved a heavy sigh and drew the covers over your head, “Fine, come in.”

Only the top half of your face visible from the swathe of sheets, you blinked as the door swung open to reveal the lax skeleton. The sleeves of his hoodie knotted around the front of his waist, your eyes flicked up and down the bony arms the short sleeves of his shirt exposed. You imagined Sans like a sheep. All fluff and poof with the clothes normally layering his body. Without all the padding of his jacket, over half his apparent girth appeared sheared off.

Unfortunately, this only highlighted the fact that he was still in the same clothes he wore when he first arrived. Papyrus too. Weren’t you the terrible host? They didn’t seem to care so far but you did. You reached for the phone on the nightstand.

 **> To: TolPeanutBean** : Are you busy tomorrow morning?  
**> To: TolPeanutBean** : I was wondering if you could let me have some of your old clothes.

Throwing your phone onto the pillow, you turned back to him. “So what is it?”

Thumbs hooked in his shorts, Sans’ eye lights were flitting about, focused everywhere but you. “it’s about the house. seems like a lot of room for one person. are you… living here by yourself?”

Your eyes narrowed, glinting with suspicion. “Why?”

“just wondering if I have to worry about any more humans.” His gaze pointedly returned to you, his smirk stretched so wide he looked like a rude caricature of the Cheshire Cat. “sometimes surprises happen, whether I like it or not.”

Odd as it may sound, but to you, it almost sounds as though the skeleton was blaming you for his situation. Biting your lip to hold back your own dry comment, you nodded, "Okay. Yeah, it’s only me here. I moved in a day before you two showed up.” You lazily gestured to him, sheets hanging off your arm. “Sorry about shoving you both into the guest room. I know there’s a ton more rooms but one of the conditions for me staying here was that I disturb as little as possible.”

“eh, i don’t mind.” He shrugged, lolling his weight against the door frame as if staying upright was too much of a bother. “‘s been a while since i’ve bunked with papyrus.”

“I don’t own the house. My mother and aunt do and they both want to sell this place. But the likelihood of that is pretty low. Fortunately, I usually stick on their good side so I was allowed to live here for now.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at the reminder. It’d be easier for everyone if you could keep it for yourself. “I’d buy the house myself if I had enough money.”

“buy the house huh…”

Your aunt had recently suffered a heart attack and was currently admitted to the hospital. You half expected your aunt to accuse your mother of selling off things inside the house out of paranoia and start a legal dispute over the ownership. In fact it was only a matter of time, with how argumentative the two were to each other. Grandmother had left the property to both sisters and either refused to share their half of the claim to the other. Your mother was hoping her sister, who was sixteen years her senior, would die before then.

Your phone vibrated and you glanced at the new text. On the bright side, you’ve secured some clothes. On the bad, you’d have to be up bright and early tomorrow for the hour drive to the university. “So that’s all you wanted to know?”

Sans snapped out of his rumination, straightening himself and shaking his head. “nah, that’s all.”

As he turned to leave, you piped up, "What did you mean by that?"

He blinked, "huh?”

"What you said earlier. That I'm a strange human. What did you mean?”

How you, the normal person here, was seen as the odd one out was something you wanted to know. You patiently waited for him to gather his thoughts. "after seeing how they tend to react in my world, i thought any human in their right of mind would have become hysterical at this."

That intense, analytical look you’d been fixated under earlier in the day has returned. Only now you recognize it as an odd blend of emotions. Puzzled and pensive mostly, with a touch of intrigue and other things you couldn’t identify. Maybe you confused him as much as he confused you. That was a nice thought. "you did, but you quickly calmed down then seemed to drink everything in without protest. figured you’d have run for the hills by now."

Understanding came to mind and you let loose a bitter chuckle, "Oh trust me, I'm having a meltdown on the inside," you assured him dryly, "But I figure what's the point? This and more is going to happen whether I like it or not."

Sans grunted at your answer.

"Although I'm sure I'll go bald from stress by the time everything's over," You ran your fingers through your hair with a troubled frown.

“if that happens,” You’re immediately worried at wide grin he’s got plastered on. “then at least you’ll never get one kind of injury ever again.”

“What kind of injury?” You finally asked, hesitant.

“a hairline fracture.”

“Oh my god.” You couldn’t tell if you were amused or annoyed at the simultaneous jab at you hurting yourself and your future hair loss.

He grinned a bit wider at your indignation, “welp, I can see I’ve _stressed_ my point enough.”

 _Don’t pun back don’t pun don’t pun_ – Your lips twitched, your short bark of laughter smothered into another huff of air. It’s the first real smile you’ve managed that’s actually directed at something he said. You’re glad it’s hidden underneath layers of blankets. _“Get out.”_

Soon enough you’re left to your own devices, nothing left to distract you and you couldn’t have that.

There was an old television set with the knobs meant for changing channels on the front hidden away in the closet. Its dusty top was covered in books and photo frames. You dragged it out into the room and tried to set it up. After a few minutes you got it to come on, but there was no cable, so all you saw was snow. There were a few basic channels that came in, but even those were not in the best quality and mostly of the boring kind. News, Spanish drama, shopping channel, nothing but infomercials, oldies–

You stopped flipping. An old episode of the Twilight Zone was on. That was worth watching.

You got through two episodes before the monochrome spider webbed across your walls and black engulfed your sight.

* * *

It’s the ungodly hour of half past five when you slowly come to.

The day just started and you wanted it to be over. A feeling sat in your gut. A familiar one that liked to inform that today was going to be one of those long ones. You clutched the sheets tighter around you, closing your eyes and simply drifting. You could hide yourself away from the world a little longer, take a breather and recover.

The nightmare this time consisted of you curled up in the darkness. Just that. No bleeding dust or weird children materialized. However, instead of the free roaming void of the first one, it was as if you had never been saved from drowning. The darkness felt restrictive, physically locking every aspect of you in place as miniscule granules grazed your skin, crushing your lungs under the pressure to the point of painful suffocation. The time you endured that strenuous suffering for seemed to stretch on and on until, half delirious from the unnatural state of silence and creeping claustrophobia, you wondered if you’d ever see anything again.

Waking up from that brought more relief than you could express.

You hadn’t picked up a shift today so you were free to waste the morning before heading over to see Shane. By the time your stomach forced your bleary eyed self to get up and fix something for breakfast, sunlight had around begun peeking through drawn curtains.

Ghosting into the room, you sluggishly ran through the motions of drawing out pans, plates, and mugs from cupboards. Placing them on the counter, you tossed a leaf sachet into one of the mugs before pulling your kettle from under the sink. You stuck it underneath the running tap water then set it on the stove top to boil. It was too early for hot chocolate but maybe tea would help your frayed nerves.

You were pulling out a cartoon of eggs from beside the stack of Tupperware stuffed with spaghetti when you heard that faint but telltale thud of footsteps moving around upstairs. You didn’t have long to wait to see who was the early riser of the brothers. Papyrus entered the kitchen as you cracked the eggs into the pan.

"GOOD MORNING, Y/N! I SEE YOU ARE ALREADY AWAKE. DID YOU SLEEP WELL?" You decide to be a little honest and shook the hand wielding the spatula in a so-so gesture. His happy disposition dampened slightly at that. “I SEE. PERHAPS MY WISHING OF A GOOD NIGHT WAS LACKING. I SUPPOSE I’LL JUST HAVE TO MAKE A GREATER EFFORT! TONIGHT, I SHALL ENSURE THAT YOU WILL ONLY HAVE THE BEST OF DREAMS!”

“Thanks Papyrus.”

A brief period of silence fell between you two, but you did notice Papyrus edging closer every time you glanced at him. The forth time you had to bite your tongue from starting in surprise at the skeleton hovering over your shoulder, watching your hands closely. “DO YOU NEED ANY HELP?”

“I’m making eggs and bacon. That’s as easy as it can get. But thanks for offering.” Steam started puffing from the nozzle of the kettle, a soft whistling signalling it was about to jump to a high pitch. You shifted it to a different burner and pushed around the yellow scramble in the skillet. “Do you have a preference for how you like your eggs?”

“I DON’T NORMALLY INDULGE IN GREASY FOOD.”

“That’s okay. I don’t use nearly as much oil when cooking.”

“THEN I GUESS I CAN MAKE AN ALLOWANCE FOR TODAY. I’LL HAVE THEM COMPACT AS A SANDWICH. NO BACON FOR ME, THOUGH SANS WILL PROBABLY LOVE IT."

Noting that detail, you slid the eggs into a waiting plate, popped two slices of wheat bread into the toaster and started on Papyrus’ eggs. You made sure to reduce the amount of oil and he seemed satisfied at that. Although, he did hand you some kind of clear flask containing unidentifiable contents. You eyed the bottle nestled comfortably in your hand, the white, almost opalescent liquid simmering as you held it up to your eyes. “What is it?”

“CONDENSED MAGIC.” The sheer nonchalance was astounding all on its own.

You gawked at him. “What? _Why??”_

“IT IS INTENDED TO BE USED AS A DIETARY SUPPLEMENT. WE APPRECIATE THE FOOD YOU MAKE BUT IT’LL BE MUCH EASIER FOR OUR BODIES TO DIGEST AND METABOLIZE IT IF YOU ADD A DASH OF MY MAGIC TO IT.”

You gave him and the magic a skeptical look. Now you just had to try it, your inquisitive human nature rising to the surface and demanding you test its validity. You tipped the bottle over, the motion shaking its contents. The white shifted to clear and even a translucent orange in some spots, the colors shifted around like a lava lamp. Whoa. A dollop of magic landed in the pan with a sizzle and seeping into the food. The eggs glowed orange before returning to their ordinary coloration.

Okay.

You needed to move onto a different subject before you brain short circuited altogether. “So why don’t you eat greasy food?”

“UNLIKE MY BROTHER, I HATE GREASE.” He said.

“Shouldn’t skeletons be the last people who should be complaining about grease? You don’t have a stomach.” You pointed out… Or did they?

“YES, BUT I HAVE STANDARDS. THE TEXTURE OF THE FOOD LATHERED IN OIL TENDS TO BE OFF PUTTING.”

And, despite the mess of questions the answer generated, that was the end of that.

You both moved onto other topics, Papyrus now seated at the center of the table in what you deemed to yourself his spot. You learned little tidbits here and there. His favorite food was oatmeal, the ones of the dinosaur egg variety, and he was not really bothered by the cold temperatures. Normally he was used to being in charge of the cooking in his household, which explained why every now and then he asked if you needed any help now. You assured him you wouldn’t mind sharing the responsibility and he beamed.

Papyrus then detailed some of his Underground (mis)adventures with another monster friend of his, Undyne. Claimed she gave him cooking lessons on a regular basis. He mentioned in an offhand but clearly deliberate manner that Sans needed coffee to properly function in the morning. You acquiesced to the request and put on a pot.

You were in the middle of plating the last of the bacon when his declaration of ‘HOPING TO GET STARTED ON LESSON TWO’ stalled your hands. “Lesson two of what?”

Papyrus looked up from his egg sandwich, and swallowed a mouthful before speaking, “OF MAKING AND STRENGTHENING THE BONDS OF FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN YOU AND ME!”

You searched your mind, coming across the memory of when he said he’d be your friend and tutor you on how to be great. Or something along those lines. “You meant that?”

The corners of his mouth down turned in confusion. “OF COURSE! IT WASN’T SAID IN JEST.”

“I thought you weren’t serious. Or maybe trying to make me feel better.” You mumbled under your breath, reaching for your cooling tea. You still stand by what you told Sans. And you weren’t the type to jump to befriending those that posed a threat to your person or security.

“WHY WOULD YOU... BERATE YOURSELF LIKE THIS?” he asked. “IS IT BECAUSE... YOU DON'T THINK YOU'RE GOOD ENOUGH TO BE MY FRIEND?  YOU'RE GREAT! AS I’VE ALREADY TOLD YOU, I'LL BE YOUR FRIEND!”

There was that trusty guilt, rearing its head at the perfect opportunities. Before you could attempt to make heads or tails of your feelings, Papyrus jumped to his feet and you watched as he washed his plate in the sink. “I HAD PLANNED ON MAKING THE CUSTOMARY SPECIAL PASTA FOR YOU BUT IT SEEMS YOU BEAT ME TO IT. I CONCEDE THAT YOUR PROWESS AT MAKING FRIENDS IS INCREDIBLE BUT YOU HAVEN’T BESTED ME YET! YOU HAVE YET TO FACE MY HORRIBLE PUZZLES.”

“I don’t understand how puzzles factor into friends.”

“ANOTHER FRIEND TAUGHT ME THIS SECRET METHOD AFTER THEY GRANTED ME THEIR FRIENDSHIP AND I HAVE GUARDED IT WITH FERVOR.” A smile replaced the shifty, conspiratorial look he’d been wearing. “THE TRIALS AND HARDSHIPS TESTS YOUR MENTAL AND PHYSICAL FORTITUDE. ENDURING THEM WILL FOSTER A SENSE OF COMRADERY AND GARNERS RESPECT AMONG PEERS!”

You leaned against the counter and sipped from the mug, gazing moving up as sounds of life floated through the creaking floorboards. You heard a couple doors shut, then footsteps on the stairs. Sans shuffled into the kitchen clad in his t-shirt and shorts, rubbing at his eye sockets. He looked as dead (ha) to the world as you had felt earlier.

Papyrus moved to guide his brother to the table, nudging him to a chair. “WOW BROTHER,” he exclaimed, voice at a marginally lower volume. Sans collapsed into the chair, burrowing his face into his arms on the table. “I’M IMPRESSED! YOU MANAGED TO GET UP A WHOLE THREE HOURS BEFORE YOUR USUAL TIME!”

“mmh.”

You glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It’s seven-thirty.

Pouring a steaming cup of coffee and grabbing the last plate of the toast, bacon and eggs, you slid the peace offering before him. He barely moved.

Despite recently knowing the two monsters, you could tell how opposite the other was from one another: where Papyrus was cheerful, loud and freakily talkative, Sans, you had learned, was quiet, and appeared rather down to earth but much more closed off at the same time. The dichotomy was weird to witness.

"Okay–”

Sans jolting upright at the sound of your voice interrupted you and you instinctively backpedaled a couple steps. Following the movement, his startled gaze quickly found yours. Exhaustion lingering behind his dull sockets, he didn’t look all there. You guessed he hadn’t realized you were in the room. He blinked after a few seconds. Standing close enough, you see his eye lights refocusing somewhat from their fuzzy state, before his shoulders visibly relaxed and he returned to the previous position. “oh, hey. thought you left already.”

“I do have to leave soon.” You admitted, checking your phone. “I have to stop by a friend to grab you two some clothes."

"WHAT TIME DO YOU HAVE TO WORK TODAY?" Papyrus seemed excited at the prospect of new clothes.

You walked to where you left your own wake up drink. Downing the rest of the tea in one swing, you set the mug aside. "It's after seven now, but I don't have to be anywhere until one. But my friend has to somewhere be before nine, so I’m going to get ready."

As you jogged to your room, you figured you might as well dress for your visit to Shane from now too and get it over with. You threw on a ratty pair of denim shorts and an olive colored band tee that was so old it couldn't shrink if it tried. It's wasn't glamorous, but it was comfortable. The cut was something Shane would have to see so sticking an extra band-aid over it sounded like a safe idea.

You wandered back into the kitchen to find a much more coherent Sans nursing his coffee, his breakfast and Papyrus missing. Sans helpfully informed you the other skeleton wanted to resume work on his puzzles and in, turn, you let him know you that you’d return in a few hours.

By the time you arrived at the off campus university housing and took the elevator up one of the two bedroom apartments, the time edged on eight-thirty. There he was standing outside his door on the third floor in all his tall glory.

"Ah, hey y/n.” Austin yawned, the mop of brown hair a mess. He probably skipped a shower again. ”I was wondering when you would get here."

You returned the greeting of Hana's boyfriend with a wave, "Hey, sorry for waking you up so early."

He only shrugged, but the bags underneath his green eyes and the tired shifts of his arms spoke a different story. The loser must have been up gaming late or out playing soccer again. "Eh, so you do you wanna tell me why I'm giving away my old clothes and shoes to you?"

Laughing nervously, you scratched the back of your hair. "Um, I just need them for donation." In a way that was true. Plus the added bonus of being the six foot five inch friend closest to Papyrus’ ridiculous height within your social circle.

He arched a brow at that, "Oh? Well, if you say so. Um, I'm running late so come on inside."

Despite his laziness, his apartment was rather clean and organized for once. Hana must’ve been over here recently. You swept in the living room and hoisted up were two black duffle bags tossed haphazardly on the couch. You assumed they held his old clothes, and a light bob from him indicated as much. You scurried out and Austin locked the door behind you.

You had to ask. "Where’s Jon?” By now you would have heard a laugh or sarcastic quip from his roommate if the man was there.

“Him and the rest of the J-Squad were out late last night so he’s out like a light in his room.” He replied, hands shoved in his pockets of his familiar green vest. It was identical to the one Shane had been wearing the day he helped you move. A remnant of the niche high school gaming club days.

Of course, you had your own hard earned vest tucked away in your closet for another day.

You hummed in understanding. He launched into an animated recounting of what happened on the way to the parking lot. It was a strange tale, one involving a game of the friendship destroying Mario Kart, a car, chips, a ball pit and chicken nuggets. It wasn’t the weirdest things you’ve ever heard occur to your fellow club members over the past few years but it did draw some incredulous scoffs and amused laughs from you.

Sometimes you wondered again how you wound up in such a strange little family.

You stopped by a superstore on the way back. Anything from hoodies, to sweat clothes, to graphic tees and track pants, you tossed a variety of clothes and footwear with swift, practiced ease in the cart, only pausing once or twice to debate on the size. After dealing with Hana’s paltry height, you were well versed in the art of midget shopping. A couple more articles for Papyrus were more difficult to locate, but you persevered and exited the store weighed down by several plastic bags, one bulging with the weight of a puzzle book, a few pairs of shades, and boxes of oatmeal.

You didn’t stick around your house, only staying long enough to accept the exclamations of gratitude before bouncing.

Bringing a few things with you, you went to meet Shane at the apartment his dad lived in. Located directly above the parlor, a nice smell always lingered around and plenty of hustle and bustle with customers coming in and out at all hours of the day. You strolled into the old fashioned English pizzeria and sidestepped the tables meant for customers. Two employees, April and Javier, were making pizza, but Javi had his cap on and looked ready to make a delivery run.

Shane met you on the stairs behind the counter, pocketing his phone once he saw you waltz in.

"I thought I heard dad making a noise about someone. You took your sweet time getting here."

You shrugged, waving to the employees once they noticed you. And even though you didn't hear him, you thought you heard Shane’s dad in the back working on something. "Funny thing about cars, every so often they run out of gas and need to be refueled, and my van likes to run out of gas."

"Why do you still have that thing?"

"Because it's a family car and its curse protected to never break down so long as I love it." You dramatically brushed back a heavy lock and sighed wistfully while batting your eyelashes. "It's magic."

Shane snorted. "What happened to your hand?"

You threw out a prepared lie, “I cut myself while making the spaghetti.”

He eyed you skeptically but ultimately said nothing about it as he led you out the parlor and down the street. “Well we have a few hours to kill. Come on, I have something to show you.”

Avalon was a strange city.

First Avalon wasn’t even the name of the city but its inhabitants tended to use the nickname rather than the official name of the mountain it was based at. It had all the vibes of the city you grew up in, or any city really. High buildings loomed overhead, all pressed together with little space between them, but it also radiated its own mysterious vibe of being off the grid. Family owned places, and cobblestone roads where everyone’s biking and walking. You’re glad you moved to this area, even if it was mostly to attend the university all your friends unanimously decided on. Being able to walk down the streets and see the neighbourhood kids running around outside laughing did something to ease your stress. This city was relaxing in ways you didn’t understand.

Kind of like how you didn’t understand where Shane was taking you. Lo and behold, it soon became clear. Once your gaze landed on the faded brick, an urge to rip out your hair welled up.

A magic shop.

There was no escape from it, was there?

“How long has this been here?” You’re baffled. A store dedicated to magic was too much of a coincidence after these past few days.

“That ancient natural vitamin store closed up a little while ago,” Shane supplied helpfully. “And that’s when this place set up shop.”

It smelled of something unusual and grabbed your attention. It didn’t really fit in with the rest of the buildings. Sycamore Street’s a popular boutique street, with fashion clothes and little clothing shops. A yoga studio stood a bit a ways, and a little bakery you sometimes stopped in when you had the time and money wasn’t far off. And, of course, the pizzeria.

Old fashioned writing swooped and dipped in great arches across the darkened window, the starry decorations dotted around it reminded you a bit of space. The sign was on with a vibrant violet light, declaring it open but no hours were posted. However, it’s impossible to see in so you couldn’t really get a feel for it aside from your guesses. The bell rang, rattling softly against the door, as you both enter and a heavily perfumed air smacked you in the face.

The Magick Den was larger than what it looked like from the road. It’s old and wood, stone pieces dispersed all over the place. They sure kept the original foundation of the building. The interior was, to no surprise, magic themed. There’s bottles everywhere alongside a variety of books and products lining the shelves. There was a long bar like counter towards the back, a row of stools colored purple and silver and standing out as being fresh and new. 

The tan younger clerk noticed you both first, head poking out from around a display. He was quick to awkwardly snap to attention by trying to comb back the front of his unkempt blonde hair trying to smooth down the front of his work uniform. Behind the counter, a woman a few years your senior with artfully piled blue hair atop her head noticed the change in her companion and glanced back to see what the fuss was about before smiling at you newcomers.

You and Shane stood at the door, taking it all in when the first clerk came to greet you. "Mornin' folks. How you be doing today?" he stuttered with a smile and a blush. It made his bright blue eyes stand out all the more in contrast.

"Good so far, thanks." You smiled, "We were just passing by and decided to check out the new place. Looks wonderful."

You drifted from Shane’s side and move around the shop, reading the labels on the glass bottles and looking at all the unrealistic colors some of them have, one looks like space. Actual space in a bottle and you tilted your head. The shop felt well taken care of, each bottle signed with a small KE in the corner and labels hand written. The shop was well taken care of. A lot of effort and work put into each bottle, a form of art in it’s own way. Learning all the things needed to go into each bottle, how much, and how to make it safe.

You prodded at an old fraying book tucked away on a corner stand, looking as if a finger hadn’t been laid on it in years.

_A Deceptive Mesmer's Codex._

In the corner of your eye you saw the woman talking to Shane now. She was dressed like the first clerk, but she seemed to move to easily across the floor to just be an employee. She owned the shop. If it belonged to anyone it had to be her. It was her castle.

“So are you interested in magic at all?”

“I’m not a fan. No offense. It’s just a personal thing.”

Forgetting the last time you did this, you opened the book and was caught up in the small whirlwind of dust. The small cloud crossed over you, causing you to cough and then to sneeze and then cough some more. It was unsettling how the sensation reminded you of dust invading your body.

"Are you okay?" the young clerk asked. His tone was one of worry, but you didn't see the need for it. He still stood imposingly close, broad shoulders spread like a shield for your convenience. You noted he was taller than you by only a head, but he was well built with a strong body and thick arms. He was young, but work was no stranger to his body, it seemed.

"I'm fine, just dust in my throat is all." You coughed once again, unable to repress the memory. You locked eyes with Shane, who’s staring at you, mouth drawn into one of his neutral looks. "Well that wasn’t fun."

"It’s an outdated collection of old spells." This time the woman answered before holding up a finger and heading further back into the store.

"That doesn't sound dangerous at all," you sarcastically replied.

The blonde shrugged, a grin tugging at his mouth. "I suppose that just depends."

"Here."

You turned at the sound and found the owner offering you a coke in a curved glass bottle. The cap had been popped off and the smell of heady old fashioned soda met your senses. It was heavier than the soda you were used to, and you reached for it before you even knew what you were doing. Carbonated bubbles whizzed to the surface to produce a frizzy froth. "Thank you."

"For the throat."

"Oh, if you're new today you might not-." the younger boy began to say but was cut off by a look from the owner. With a disgruntled expression, he pressed his lips together and nodded like a chastised child.

Even if he was a stranger, you thought it was a sweet gesture to be concerned for your safety, so you ignored the dark shadow cast across Shane’s face and smiled at him. The tightness in the boy’s face eased up and you saw shades of pink grow across his cheeks. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"Thanks for worrying, but I think I should be fine." Not quite finished with the drink you took one last sip before handing it back to the owner. "And thank you for the drink, that was considerate, but we should be going."

"Will we see you around town then?" the younger asked.

"Maybe. My name is y/n, by the way. The grump is Shane."

The blond put a hand on his chest, right below the collar of his shirt. "My name's Nate, this old cube ‘s Katherine. Feel free to drop back any time for any magical need."

“The magic here is legit, right?” you ventured. That question seemed to tickle their funny bones.

“I’d like to think so.” Katherine chuckled. “Like Nate said, if you need a magical service done, have a problem, or just want some advice this is your place. Charms, readings, fortune telling, potions, you name it and we most likely have it.”

With a final backwards wave as you and Shane made your exit, you pondered on the words. They stuck with you throughout dinner and on the drive home.

You walked in the side door to be met by a strange sight. One skeleton lounged at the table in a 8-bit skull patterned sweatshirt with lens less glasses taped to his head as he filled in a crossword in the newspaper. The other pounded tomatoes into mush with his bare hands, an ‘Officially the World’s Greatest Grandpa’ apron with Grandpa crossed out and Papyrus written in red sharpie underneath protecting his sweater vest from the flying pulpy paste. He acknowledged you with the boundless enthusiasm and boisterous voice you were slowly growing accustomed to, a delayed baritone greeting followed shortly after.

Shaking your head, you smiled as genuine laughter bubbling in your throat. Your shoulders shook with the effort to keep them contained, stray giggles slipping free here and there.

Any magical problem huh? You might just have to keep that in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, so imma just slid this out and go back into hiding... Maybe work on a bonus chapter.  
> ...  
> Don't look at me.
> 
> p.s. there's a [magic guide and stuff](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11341281) now that i'm making and bother me at this new [tumblr](https://myosctis.tumblr.com/)


	6. Palette Swaps Abound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You should appreciate what you have. After all, it could always be worse.

That discussion never happens.

In the first few days of settling in, something vaguely resembling a routine was established between everyone. Waking up at certain hours, defining breakfast duty, laundry duty, dinner duty, learning Sans tended to do none of the above, etc. Thankfully you had a dishwasher so that was one less problem.

Morning always greeted you after the reoccurring nightmares, the same one with you unable to move. You realized soon enough what you were trapped in. Long worry-free mornings were becoming something you cherished when you had the chance.

Usually it’s just you and Papyrus in the kitchen after his early morning runs. Breakfast was rarely a shared meal in the house - everyone adhered to their own routines and while there’s sometimes someone loitering around, drinking coffee or reading the news, everyone mostly left each other alone so early in the morning.

The cooking alternated between you and Papyrus. When Papyrus cooked, you sit on the counter or at the table and scroll through the news on your phone, or you cook and Papyrus leans against the counter and watches you, occasionally exchanging banter or stories. You usually made simple breakfasts, Papyrus never seemed to mind, claiming he liked it just as much as any other sustenance he can get in the morning. Papyrus usually made something from his repertoire of recipes that was frighteningly low, a fact you found unsurprising after learning his friend only gave cooking lessons for one dish.

For someone without taste buds he was a surprisingly good cook. When it didn’t involve spaghetti. Which he said was perfect at any time of the day. Twice now, you watched Sans carefully school his expression from a grimace and wash his servings down with a large glass of water. You haven’t had any of his ‘special’ pasta yet, but from Sans’ reaction and how you’ve seen him make it you counted it as a blessing in disguise. Papyrus never had a problem with his spaghetti. You attributed it to the possibility that he’s never eaten it himself. Containers of spaghetti occupied the lower domain of your fridge.

Sans claimed his own food was passable. Papyrus simply looked at him with the most deadpan look you’ve seen from him thus far and said “NON-EGG QUICHE.” Sans had no witty retort or pun at the ready. You didn’t ask.

After breakfast you went to work, dealing with customers of your job or helped your elderly clients. Papyrus said he worked out or recalibrated his puzzles after breakfast. He didn’t really have a shape to keep up after all but he liked to make sure his reflexes and body are still as good as new. Sans was usually still asleep.

Lunch, if you can make it between jobs, was a casual event. Grabbing whatever’s easiest to make. Sometimes someone’s already made something. Around this time Sans rises from his room to join the land of the living. He doesn’t speak, only capable of cogent functioning after his caffeine fix. You’d return after work to help Papyrus with the upkeep on the housework. Sans was off doing whatever he did.

Dinner’s a similar affair to breakfast, only with the addition of a symphony of puns, jokes, and groans with Sans as its conductor.

After that there’s nothing scheduled, nothing specific, nothing usual. Sometimes the household made an attempt to spend time together or split up for their own thing. Sometimes you all watch the television you’d finally set up, or talk, or sit and read in silence. Sometimes you walk in the forest. Sometimes you call it an early night. Sometimes you spend time with Papyrus. Sometimes Sans spends time with Papyrus. Sometimes you both spend time with Papyrus.

Eventually everyone dragged themselves to bed. Sometimes together, sometimes one before the other. Papyrus could run on far less sleep than Sans, but he preferred to ‘nap’ when his brother did, even if he didn’t need it and woke up at certain intervals during the night. Phone calls at night with Sine became a regular thing again. You would lay in bed each night, leaning your ear against your phone, talk to him and stave off the pull of sleep until your eyes became heavy. Even after the call, as soon as you woke up, you'd quickly text your friend a short, ‘good morning’. By noon, a familiar buzz would vibrate in your pocket. A smile always tugged across your lips when you read the screen, the same two words sent back often followed by a joke hinting at the theme that day. Throughout the week, you would receive curious glances by the brothers to find out what you were grinning at. You weren’t keen on telling them.

It was a tentative work in progress. Everybody still floated about in the acclimation period. Adjusting to having another person, essentially a stranger, living with you would take some time for anyone but the semi-predictability of it put you somewhat at ease.

You and Sans had arrived at a strange crossroad of sorts. Despite each other’s best efforts, you and Sans still found yourselves avoiding one another, each leery of interaction. He didn’t go out of his way to start a conversation, and you saw no real point to seeking him out. If anything, Papyrus was your only mutual, constant point of contact throughout the day.

The lack of trust was probably part of the explanation, but it was more than that. There’s this thing with the both of you. It's not amity, or camaraderie. More of an extremely loose companionship you both silently accepted but never acknowledged. It came in waves, attention on each other a little more acute when you share the same company and then distant when your individual activities absorbed you, so you were unaware of it happening and surprised when you sat down and realized it.

You did this, you thought accusingly at the book.

The book was unmoving, placed on the coffee table and sitting there so suspiciously. It looking like it wanted to be picked up to cause more mayhem was condemning enough to confirm your suspicions, but it would never admit to anything out loud.

Normally, you wouldn’t want to pay any mind it to it but you’d never find a way to get Sans and Papyrus home if you avoided the root of the problem. Reluctant, you did pick it up and look inside.

“Hey Papyrus,” you said, flipping through the pages.

“YES?” he asked, attention focused on his work.

“Have you seen this yet?” You hold up the book, pointing at a page from it for emphasis. It’s Papyrus, yet not. All sharp angles wrapped up in a blanket of red and black. You finally ventured into the second section of the tome, titled ‘Underfell’ only to be met by much of what you had already seen. Some old monsters weren’t there. Some new ones were present. All the profiles occupying their own pages had remained resolute in their placement within the book. The most startling difference was everyone seemed to have been put through a revolving door and emerged on the other side as darker, scarred, red and black palette swap versions of themselves. “Didn’t know you had such an edgy streak to you.”

Papyrus paused in his work and looked up from the complex array of objects laid before him on the same table.

The puzzle pieces were a bit bewildering to you. It looked like one of those things professionals use to test peoples' IQ and gauge their ability to efficiently put things together. They were small wooden blocks cut in a variety of odd shapes, and it took you a while of looking over them to realize they were meant to fit together into some sort of cube. You had been watching as he turned over each piece to try and determine how they'd fit together.

Maybe you could take a crack at it after he finished. Papyrus had been happy to discover another puzzle lover such as himself, pushing you now more than ever to try his personally made puzzles. You didn’t know why they required so much room, they were reportedly set up outside. Maybe it was more like an obstacle course? You had agreed to do his puzzles tomorrow.

It was already almost two weeks since you moved into the house and technically been ten days since the brothers arrived in your world.

The surrealism was staggering.

“I HAVE. BUT I HAVE CONFIDENCE THAT ME IS JUST AS GREAT AS I AM, DESPITE THE STRANGE TASTE IN CLOTHING.”

You shrugged at the reply and continued flipping the pages. That was one way to put it. Papyrus’ hands begun working again, methodically pressing the blocks together, rotating them in every which way he could to see if they'd fit together.

Edge Papyrus looked like a intimidating monster you would never want to anger. And Christ, this shorter brother was someone you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. If you believed Sans had been scary before, then you could only imagine how this one acted.

As if reading your mind, Papyrus paused once again. “I ADMIT THE IDEA OF SANS FILING HIS TEETH IN SUCH A MANNER IS WORRISOME BUT I KNOW MY BROTHER WOULDN’T DO IT WITHOUT A GOOD REASON. EVEN IF IT IS AN ALTERNATE VERSION OF HIM.”

Your memory of that day in the kitchen rose unbidden to the forefront of your mind, replacing Sans’ image with that of his red double. Teeth capable of shearing through you without a second thought and piercing red eyes made the lazy skeleton’s threat seem a bit paler in comparison.

No thanks, you preferred the classic.

You briefly ducked into the kitchen for a glass of water, passing the sock. Yesterday, you had noticed it perched unassumingly in the corner. You had picked the sock up, opened the empty skeleton brothers’ room and, knowing Papyrus valued cleanliness too much to casually allow such blasphemy, threw it onto Sans side. But it made a mysterious return today. And in the exact same spot too.

Eventually, all the pieces fit together and Papyrus placed the solved puzzle, an inch thick block that was the width of his hand, on the table, catching your attention. That strange emblem from the book cover was on it too.

Brows furrowed, you lowered the tome and set it aside. “Hey, where’d you get the puzzle? I’ve never seen it before.”

“OH,” Papyrus tapped the tome’s cover. “I FOUND IT INSIDE THE BOOK.”

Your stomach dropped, your voice box barely squeezing out a whisper, “What?”

Papyrus, touting his achievement, was beaming. “IT WAS A CHALLENGE BUT I CAN OVERCOME ANYTHING.”

Before you could react, Papyrus had already opened it. The pages were a white blur. Through the Undertale section, then the next, slowing to a stop at the end of Underfell where the pages fused toegther. God, you were right to assume more puzzles were all that awaited you the deeper you delved into this rabbit hole.

Movable panels on thick page didn’t jump out at you this time. The rectangular hole in the paper thin wooden divider was a perfect match for the missing piece. Papyrus slid the solved piece into the page, an inch flattened to mere tenth of a millimeter. It connected seamlessly, to the point where you could no longer where the piece originally began and the hole ended.

The click was rather anticlimactic, but deafening in the silence that followed.

You stared down at the book with a frozen face, stuck in something like an upside down smile, not yet a frown but with possibility and familiarity to it; the much younger second cousin of a frown, you could say.

“Are you going to get that?” you asked after a minute, switching back to a calm voice. “The book, I mean.”

Papyrus shook his hands.

And so, the two of you sat like that for a while; both debating doing it for yourselves, partially to simply get it over with, partially to see who would give in first.

“I’m scared. You open it.” You abruptly announced, ending the silent arms’ race.

“ARE YOU SAYING I AM STRONGER AND MORE CAPABLE THAN YOU?” he asked for clarification.

You stopped for a moment and thought. About your grandmother, about the book, about storms and the sickly sweet scent of blood. You came to a conclusion.

“I’m saying you’re physically stronger, yeah.” You made sure to stress ‘physically’ in your sentence, because yeah the magic was a boon and he had at least a foot on you but you weren’t a total slouch when it came to intelligence. Papyrus didn’t notice.

He lifted it up by the page and set it on his lap. As you scrambled around the table and plopped down next to him on the couch, you dully realized that it’s strange the page hadn’t torn under the application of gravity’s force. The words on the first page of the third section shifted somewhat, changing rapidly to a language the two of you might’ve understood but slowing down at a strange mixture of three, greek, french and german, then finally on yours. Underswap.

What the hell?

Then the cover began to move.

Papyrus dropped it and jolted backwards, his reflexes smarter than the rest of him. You snapped it shut, shoving it clear off the small stretch of table with the amount of force you exerted. It bounced off the armchair you were sitting in before and landed on the floor, the carpet muffling the dull thud.

You both were stock still. Personally, you weren’t sure if you had imagined that, your mind once again playing tricks on you, but you wouldn’t put anything past the book at this point. Finally you both leave the living room, walk up the stairs and enter the guest room, Sans seated at the lone desk of the room with a book. You’re cringing as your eyes drift off towards the still unmade bed. You fought the urge to make it.

“The tome is haunted.”

For hours, you and Sans poked and prodded at the cursed book. You’d both examined on your own time, but this marked the first instance of you both looking it over. Not that it made a difference. Zero progress and no leads still equalled nothing. It refused to reveal anymore secrets or come to life. You were already near the end of your rope.

Your mounting frustration blinded you to most of the illustrations in what you were now dubbing chapters, but from what you gleaned the title of Underswap seemed accurate to a T, entire outfit ensembles and personalities exchanged all over the place. Grillby, a fire elemental, now ran a confectionary shop rather than his usual bar, that position manned by the spider monster Muffet. The head of the royal guard was now the royal scientist and vice versa. Even the Papyrus and Sans of this chapter weren’t immune to its effects.

Little of that mattered to you.

You were going to get to the bottom of this before you went mad or the book started guzzling blood and you needed to call in an exorcist. Tomorrow, you were going to march into the Magick Den with this thing and if they truly knew a lick about magic, then they would have to have _some_ idea on this bullshit.

Night came and you didn't want to sleep.

The first half of the night was spent jogging on the forest, pushing your body, exerting yourself beyond the bounds that you knew were healthy, until you lacked the energy to do more than stumble back to the house in a mindless stupor.

You showered. You sat on your bed and stared out the window for an hour. You attempted to close your eyes. You saw the nightmares replayed in front of your mind's eye, saw, felt, tasted the dust. You opened your eyes again. You stared out the window for another hour.

Something was missing. Someone was missing.

There was nothing that could be done about that, though. You could ache for him all you wanted but it wouldn't change the fact that he wasn't with you, that he couldn't be there to hug you and run his fingers through your hair and talk down the horrors that haunted your thoughts.

You heaved a sigh, jumped off the bed, padded over to the final remaining duffle bag that sat abandoned in the corner of the room and removed a pad of paper and drawing utensils from it.

He may not have been there to help you through the night, but there was another person in the house who was probably awake. Even if they ended up being the one who you didn't wanted and weren't somebody who would make any move to comfort you, weren't somebody that you would even want to try and comfort you, having somebody around was better than having nobody around.

The soft sounds of snoring greeted you as you knocked lightly, waited, then pushed the door open and slipped into the room, closing it behind you. Papyrus didn't react to your entrance at all, out cold on his bed; Sans shot you a sideways glance and a frown from where he sat on his bed, legs crossed under him.

His eyes stayed locked on you the entire way as you walked from the door to the window sill on the other side of the room, one which resembled the ledge in your own room. A little narrower, lacking the plants, but with a clear view of the night sky, the stars, the moon, all the same.

You settled down and let the page consume your thoughts.

A couple of minutes passed in silence, save for the scratching of your pencil skating across the paper. The shaky outline of a head, a jawline, the contours of a nose, rough shape of the eyes.

"what are you doing in here?"

The lips, thin, tipping up at the corner.

"Why are you still awake?" You threw back at him, eyes darting up and eyebrow raising.

"i'm still awake in my room."

"I can't sleep," you said. Your shoulders rose in a shrug. "You weren't asleep either."

Sans hummed and closed his eyes again, returning to his thoughts.

You kept up your sketch, letting the familiar sounds of snoring a few feet away lull your nerves. You didn't expect to get any significant amount of sleep that night, truth be told, more you were hoping to manage a few hours of uninterrupted rest, knowing that the nightmares were inevitable—stress and trauma were a nasty combination.

You shaded the hair with long strokes, feather touches of the pencil.

"who is that?"

You paused and cast him another glance. "Someone important to me."

He blinked. His face didn't change, nor did he say anything else, but you got the distinct sense that you had surprised him with the answer.

The finished image stared back at you. A languid half-grin, relaxed posture, his back propped up against a tree and a book open in his lap open meadow stretching out to the beyond in the background. It helped to have a vision of home, in some ways, but in others it felt as if the ache had become more poignant rather than less.

You flipped the page and began anew, decorating the blank canvas with a different visage. Short hair that swept down to his shoulders, much like your own. The gentle smile that you imagined him to wear stretched his lips and dimpled his cheeks, reaching all the way up into his eyes, which you knew without question were a rich caramel, though you lacked the tools to colour them as such. His hands were clasped in front of him. The image was one you had drawn with such frequency that you could have completed it in your sleep.

Sans studied you the entire time in silence.

He hadn't asked the question you could tell he wanted to by the time you had put the finishing details on the sketch.

"It's my dad," you said, attention not straying from the pad in front of you, your legs drawn inwards and the page balancing on your knees. "As well as I can remember him, I mean."

The words were unbidden, slipping past your lips before you could fully register what you were saying, though you couldn't bring yourself to care by that point—whether you would feel the same in the morning was questionable.

Again, Sans took the words without offering any of his own.

You weren't bothered as you hadn't expected him to. It seemed that unless there was jokes to be done or questions to be asked or demands to be made, Sans was a person of few words.

Ignoring the leaden feeling of your limbs you closed up the sketch pad and stepped down, stretched your arms above your head. The sun would be up in three hours, at which point you would be driving to Avalon, something that would be easier if you got the chance to rest even a couple of hours. Going days without sleep was possible but it wasn't preferable, not when you would need your senses functional the next day.

"I'm going to sleep," you said. "You should too."

"k."

"Seriously."

"k."

"Fine, whatever."

"k."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter this time, but it's more of a transition chapter. Papyrus has yet to start the second stage of friendship bonding but boy is he ready. Sans is just like a 'meh' acquaintance at the moment who doesn't give a shit. Poor Reader is getting so jumpy but she's gotta pull through. For the skeles!
> 
> Just to be clear, this isn't one of those fics where everyone is already acquainted with the Surface and and all the skelebros adjust to the Reader in a relatively quick manner and gain a crush within 5-10 chapters. 
> 
> Nah, I'm trying something different here, and I'm hoping it's going to become utter chaos down the road.


	7. Lagniappe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden.

You could taste the dust and feel the cold swallowing you bit by bit. Soon you were nothing but a thing made of marble stone, unable to move and chilled through and through. Only the smoke kept you from become wholly one with the landscape around you. You were in a garden of statues, and you were one of many.

Unable to move, you began to panic. You had never been good with small spaces, and like many people had bouts of claustrophobia when she became confined against her will. The loss of freedom to move at will and the loss of power to go as she pleased made you scream, but her mouth was made of stone. No sound came out.

Then the smoke was inside of you again, spiraling down your throat and flooding your body with a dirty feeling. Your chest began to burn and the sensation of pins and needles grew over your body as life came back into your limbs. You screamed, and the smoke inside you flared with a roar. Fire burned you out and at last you were free.

When you fell it was only a foot at the most, but you landed on lush carpets of grass, so it didn't feel like you fell at all. You spread your fingers and dug your nails into the dirt, trapping blades of green in your hands and ripping them up when you stood. You swayed a little, still tasting the smoke, but knew the foreign entity was gone from your body.

You were free and you were alone.

"Where the hell…?" you moaned, still feeling distant from your body. "Where am I?"

All around here were hedges and greenery. You were in a garden, one of the fancy English gardens that nobles and kings boasted of from back in ancient times. Strewn through the hedges where marble pedestals with figures frozen in time. Men and women, nearly all of them beautiful and ethereal in some way, lined the walls of the garden.

You reached out to touch one but pulled back your hand as if stung when you felt the icy surface. Had that been you?

Disturbed by the nature of your surroundings, you took off, running blindly into the foliage. There were peonies and roses and all other sorts of flowers you didn't recognize wherever you turned. In between all these flowers were more statues.

"No!" You ran faster. "This can't be happening."

You should have realized it was a dream as always, but trapped in one so vivid, the thought never occurred to you. It seemed more real in a way, like the very first. Your thoughts were clouded and foggy. Only your most basic functions were under your command as a familiar panic nested in your heart.

There was a flash of dark and then a spark of red, the red of a dying ember, and you tripped to a halt. The cloud of smoke was slithering out and around its self like a serpent, burning in places without a true fire. It twisted towards you and then snapped back before turning around and heading off.

Not knowing what else to do, you ran after it, bare feet thundering across the earth as your mind became more plagued with worry.

Your thoughts flashed to white as your body jerked to a stop. The smoke hovered in mid air before twisting once and dissipating into nothing. Before you stood an old Victorian green house with brass lettering curved above the front doors. The greenhouse was old and seemed ill taken care off, but the letters were easy enough to read.

"The Marble Garden," You read aloud. Glancing back over your shoulder you spotted more marble statues. It made sense. You blinked and then turned back towards the green house. It was so large it reached up above your line of vision. You had to stretch back to see its end but the sun met your eyes and you had to look away. While recovering, that’s when you saw it.

The book from your nightstand stood tall in the distance, trapped on the other side of the door before you, a thick layer of dust across the black cover. All at once you remembered what reality felt like, and remembered what dreams were. The knowledge weighed you down. Fighting against the new weight, you lifted your hand and dropped it against the door's brass handles. They jiggled, but refused to budge any lower. Stubbornly you tried again, but couldn’t manage to force it open.

Deep inside you was the need to open the door in front of you. Somehow you knew, without a reason or doubt, that if you could get through the door and to the book, you would be okay.

"Please," you whispered into the air. "Just open for me please."

Cold seeping into your skin, you tilted forward and tried to grab onto the handle before you turned back to stone, no longer able to feel your fingers. Your hand was stiff above the door handle, but wouldn't move any more. It’s a dream, nothing more. You just needed to reach it, you just needed to get to the book.

You didn't know how it happened, since you were unable to turn. But the smoke was back, and out of it emerged a pale hand. That hand was strong and solid as it came down on the handle and pushed the door open. You felt the hand reach for your back and push you forward. You were swallowed by a burning whiteness before you could see the silhouette of the person who had helped you.

* * *

The curved lights on the darkened windows were vibrant and purple, declaring them open as you pulled up outside the Magick Den. Slamming the car door shut after grabbing the tome, you marched inside, the bell rattling against the door as you pushed it open. The clerk, Nate you think, startled and nearly dropped the box he precariously balanced in his attempt to wave at you. You regretted this already but knew you needed to do this. If you wanted to be able to have a shot at a somewhat normal life and just kind of live you had to try something.

“Hey hey, was wondering when you’d come on by ‘gain. Didn’t expect so soon though.” He laughed, glancing at the clock. “And at six in the morning.” He climbed down from the ladder he’d been standing on, ducking under the main counter to set the box on the counter top. “So where’s your friend?”

You shook your head. “Probably asleep like a normal person. Do you guys ever close? I never saw any times out front.”

Nate smiled. “We’re open when we need to be,” he said, a bit too cryptically for your tastes.

“Right,” you drawled and slid the book onto the counter, obsidian cover gleaming in the toned down light of the stop. You weren’t here to entertain any mysticism. “So I’m going to cut to the chase and I hope the service here isn’t total bullshit or a scam.”

“I assure you, we try our best here. So what’s the problem?” He reached for the book, smile falling the moment his fingers touched brushed against the title.

“I drug up this magical book out of my grandmother’s things and now I’ve been plagued by pretty awful nightmares and … strange things going on around me for the past two weeks. Am I being haunted? Was I cursed? Can this place do something about this? Can it be exorcised?”

All the while through rapid fire questions, you watched as he creaked open the book to the first page, slowly frowning the more he looked at it. After a minute he closed it once more. “Do you mind waiting a second or so? I need to ask the cube about this.” You nodded, and the clerk moved into the back.

Idly you wandered about the shop, reaffirming most of your previous observations. It was well taken care of as always. You only hoped the so called magical service was held up to the same standard. “There better really be something to this magic stuff,” you muttered, staring at the large windows.

For a brief moment strange symbols flared on the glass, bright against the pressing light of dawn. Your breath caught audibly, then the air shifted as you edged closer to stand before it. A hand caught your wrist before you could touch the fading symbols. The pungent scent of incense curled around you, sinking deep.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," chided a silvery, vaguely familiar voice. "Don't ever touch a spell unless you know how it's laid."

You spun and stared. There was the owner, all slender elegance, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. At the moment her hair peaked from the dark blue bun pinned to the top of her head.

“Spells?” There was your doubt, rearing it’s head again.

“Never mind that,” she said, waving it off instantly. “I’m sorry it took so long but thank you so much for waiting.”

Behind her, a soft scoff drifted to the front. You peered around the woman, your eyes meeting Nate’s as he cheekily waved back from behind the counter. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to the woman. “No, don’t be it’s fine… Caitlin, right?”

She smiled at you, eyes bright in the dark shop. “Katherine.”

“Right, sorry.” You shifted a little, looking away and sighing. “So can you help me?”

“What’s the name of this supposed book?”

You closed your eyes and thought about the nightmare, about how real it had been. About how real  _all_  of them had been. So many thoughts raced through your head, so many improbable tangents and suppositions and skeletons and spaghetti and terrible puns.

You chose to not answer. Instead you held up the book, your fingers brushing against the vines curling across the cover.

Katherine said nothing.

When you opened your eyes, you found her staring at you, mouth hanging open. Shock filled her brown eyes, magnified and gleaming behind the lenses of her glasses.

"There is another," she whispered, laughter shaking her shoulders. "By the stars, there is another.”

“You recognize this thing?”

"Where did you find that? I’ve not seen that book in a long time…”

You stared, slowly lowering the book as the woman became lost in the memories swirling behind those glasses. Something didn’t feel right about this. Should you have kept your mouth shut and put up with your monster roommates? It seemed a bit tempting when faced with this uncomfortable, emotional display but how long could you take the relentless nightmares on your own? Images of dust cemented your decision to at least try seeing this visit through to the end.

“I hate to interrupt,“ you slowly started, wary of setting off the woman again, “but I was hoping to address my issues as soon as possible.”

That appeared to snap Katherine out of whatever daze she had fallen into. She nodded, motioning with her hand towards the door at the back of the shop. Nate’s gaze flicked between you and her, his cheerful disposition long since faded. “Do you think she’s a mage?”

“We’ll just have to see won’t we? Keep an eye on the shop.” She smiled, her eyes red and watery as she faced you. "You. Come with me."

The back room was so dimly lit that it took several blinks for your eyes to adjust. Once they did, you were met with a riot of color: narrow, dark shelves holding stacked books stood in rows and an azure gateleg table strewn with wayward books and half filled bottles shoved into the corner. Heavy swags of lemon chiffon-yellow curtain shielded the interior from the world beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Astrological posters were plastered across the walls. One showed the zodiac constellations, another displayed an extensive guide to Chinese mystical symbols, and the next was a hand with fingers spread, each line on the palm carefully labeled.

You walked between the bookshelves, following Katherine through the small library. You had a million questions you wanted to ask. What was a mage? Was she one, and did she know others? Who was your grandmother truly and how did she get her hands on the book? Yet when you began to ask, Katherine shook her head.

"Wait."

You reached a heavy oaken shelf topped with books bound in leather. Blue flowers, luminescent corolla glowing in the faint light, curled upon their spines. Katherine chose one book - a small collection of hymns - and tugged it downward. The entire shelf creaked and slid on secret hinges. Your eyes widened. The shelf slid three feet, revealing a trapdoor in the wooden panels of the floor.

"I've always heard that books can be portals to new places." You whistled. "I never thought they meant it literally."

Katherine gave you a wry smile. "Wonderful. Now come on. Follow me."

She tugged the trapdoor open, revealing a wooden staircase that led into a cellar. She stepped into the shadows and after a moment's hesitation you followed, walking close behind and clutching the book under your arm. She grabbed a glass lamp which hung on the wall and stepped off the last step. You joined her, and your eyes widened further. You lost your breath.

"Welcome," Katherine said, "to the true Magick Den."

"This," you said, "is a library."

The chamber was no larger than the library aboveground-circular with a ceiling that tapered to a point. But its wonder wasn't contained by its size. Oaken shelves lined the walls, the wood lovingly carved and polished. Glass jars glowed on the top shelves, casting a golden, white and yellow lights, their fuel a mystery to you. A aromatic haze hung in the air. Many shelves held curiosities: model ships inside bottles, bowls of seashells and crystals, daggers with jeweled hilts, toy soldiers and dragons carved of polished stone, and counter-squares boards with pieces of ebony and silver.

But mostly the shelves held books, and these books were more wonderful than any of those aboveground, looking worn in a way that spoke of their age and being lovingly well-used. Some were bound in richly worked leather, their spines displaying trees, stars, suns, and animals. Others sported covers of precious metal inlaid with dully glowing gems, while some covers were carved of olive wood. Some were clasped with sturdy-looking locks and hinges made of brass and silver. Many books lay open upon tables, displaying colorful illustrations of animals, mythological creatures, and grand cities with many towers. You glanced at the titles on the spines:  _Old Songs of the Forest, Artifacts of Magi and Power, Fundamentals of Esoteric Magical Theory_ , and many more titles hinting at wonder and arcane lore.

"Christ," you whispered.

What the hell was happening? How did a magical book about monsters correlate with whatever this Harry Potter stuff was that was hitting you out of nowhere?

Katherine led you to the center of the room. A group of purple armchairs were gathered around a magnificent desk covering the polished wooden floor. It was carved from a single slab of wood, a great, heavy piece of oak that gleamed with the dull shine of years.

“This is quite the place you have here,” you said weakly, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. “Do any, uh, mages frequent here?”

“No. Mages are hard to come by these days.” You placed the book on the desk as the woman calmly sat down across from you, eyes following the action intently. “You don't know much, do you? I’d have thought with your possession of the book that you were at the very least fain-born. Yet you seem like a complete Sap.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry,” she said, adjusting her glasses and creaking open the book’s cover. “Forgot that it can been seen a bit insulting. Saps are a way of referring to Homo _sapiens_ , a handy abbreviation for someone of the human world. Someone like you."

You raised a brow. "But you're human."

"I am, but I'm not like you." There was no defensiveness in her tone. She almost sounded like she didn't care if you believed her or not.

“You see yourself as Homo superior then?”

“Well, I don't know about superior, but mages are undoubtedly set apart from normal humans. Think of them as the magical people you see in pop culture these days, like wizards and witches.”

“So you wave wands and fly on broomsticks.”

Katherine seemed just as offended as you were a minute ago, looking up from the text to narrow her eyes at you over the rim of her glasses. “Not even close. Look, that’s enough about mages," she said, suddenly practical. “What they are isn’t related to your problems so it is not important right now. Just think of mages as people with access to magic but in an unconventional manner. They were the original handlers of this book. Without saying too much, in order to properly navigate it you need to have a thorough understanding of kingdoms, gates and the variations in alternate timelines and universes held within the book as it’s current owner.”

You frowned, leaning back into the chair. "I feel like you're trying to tell me something but your words are getting in the way of making sense. What the hell is going on?"

"You have uncovered the Dead-Night Tome of Undertale."

There was a ripple in the world around you and you felt it in your bones. Katherine’s words reminded you of the puzzle that started all of this crazy dreaming. With four puzzle covers, three of them pitch black and the most recent at the end of Underswap being white, it certainly seemed to be the root of all your crazy.

"What did I do and how do I undo it?"

Katherine turned to face you fully and the smile from before was absent from her features. "The easiest way for you to think about this is to consider it a game. It was once considered a puzzle of the mind but 'game' is more accurate a term since the invention of current adventure video consuls."

Video games, you mentally corrected her.

Katherine held up her hands to accompany her words with air quotes. "In this 'video game' there are several so called 'levels' for you to pass through; so far you’ve unlocked three gates and three kingdoms. Gates are designed to keep you out of the kingdom and protect the kingdom from inferiors. Once successfully navigated, the gate token with purify on the actual book in this world."

“What do you mean by purify?”

She inclined her head, skimming through the pages once more before closing it. “The tome turns black when activated and the covers of each kingdom will turn white once purified. First the edge of the puzzle cover, then the entire thing. Like so.” Her finger tapped against the border you hadn’t noticed before. It was thin ivory line, a millimeter thick and sitting on the outermost. “It seems you’ve successfully passed through a gate at some point, which is the first of many. You are now in Undertale.”

“This sounds like a lot of trouble,” you sighed. “Can’t I give this book away? Or at least can you, I don’t know, take the thing?”

She shook her head. “I can’t. As the Owner, also know as the Dreamer, it’s bound to you now.”

“What if I burn it or toss it in the ocean or  _something_?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to try that. In order to advance and put this all behind you, you must fulfill an objective in each kingdom."

"And if I don't?"

"Then what always happens when you find yourself stuck in a game will take place. You never move on. Your life will belong to this world, until you reach the end or until you die. Whichever comes first.” She shrugged, leaning forward and steepling her hands. “Or at least, that’s how this is all said to go.”

You stared at her in silence for a moment, then breathed deeply. “Okay, give me a minute.”

You leaned your head back and narrowed your eyes to slits. It felt like the world was crumbling around you as you reviewed the strangeness of your situation for the hundredth time. You moved into a house and your grandmother, who was looking more and more like a secret member of some occult, randomly left behind a mysterious tome to alternate worlds of monsters in a box full of junk.

Now you were shacking up with a pair of skeletons that popped out of the aforementioned tome. One may or may not hate you, and the other was eager to befriend you. You were starting to see dust, and smoke everywhere, and nothing could help the terrifying dreams at night. Now you sought help at a magic shop because anything else would land you in an asylum or put you in the care of a shrink. You’ve just been told mages exist and thanks to magic bullshit you couldn’t get rid of the book.

…All of this should be happening to Hana right now. Not you. Main character syndrome or whatever she had wasn’t contagious and shouldn’t be bleeding over into your life.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Katherine said.

You had to laugh as you slowly shook your head, feeling too weak to even lift your head off the backrest. “Right. I have to say, this all feels a little too convenient for me.”

She blinked. "Huh?" She looked from the book to your skeptical face. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on! I discover this tome and then out of  _nowhere_  I find out there’s a shop that just opened. A magic shop that just _happens_  to be where the one person in the world I needed to find that has the knowledge to give me exposition and to deal with this book. Sounds like bad writing on a cosmic scale.”

She made a soft, vibrant laugh. “It probably seems that way, doesn’t it? I can see why you’d come to that conclusion. Well if it helps to ease your mind, I opened up shop here because I registered a large enough magical presence not that long ago. I never expected to ever come across Undertale.”

The whole thing seemed so unlikely. You still weren’t sure how to believe or even absorb this information dump, but it was the most plausible and only explanation you’ve had about the book thus far. Why couldn’t whoever have made this done something constructive with their time? If they could create a portal puzzle book to other realities then those talents could be put towards achieving world peace or ending world hunger.

“Alright. Fine. Whatever.” You conceded, crossing your arms under your chest. “But what about my nightmares? They started after I opened this book but I don’t see how they are related to this Undertale game.”

“Your dreams are probably a message about the objective.”

“A message, huh.” You thought back to all the stone statues in the garden and shivered, not wanting to know if your hunch was correct or not. “So what? You’re going to do dream interpretation now?”

“Yes.” She opened a drawer on her side of the desk, rummaging among the papers. A few blank sheets of paper were slid onto the desk and she popped the cap off a pen. “Start with the first one.”

Why? Just _why_ was this happening you?

Frowning, you tried thinking back to that night almost two weeks ago. It wasn’t difficult, the fear branded in your mind bringing much of the images back to the forefront with startling clarity. “I think it started with me peeling an orange but then I cut myself with the knife. I was bleeding dust.”

“Dust?”

“I opened my mouth but started to vomit more dust until I was dragged down, sinking into water.”

She hummed, scribbling a few lines down. “Can you remember any other specific details during this part of the dream? It’ll help with the analysis.”

Your brows furrowed. Some little things here and there escaped you but others in the dream jumped out at you. “I was sitting in the sun, on some grass I think. I remember when the dust started pouring out of me, the sunlight on it made it look like a rainbow. I tried screaming but couldn’t.”

“Alright, carry on.”

“I end up falling into the ground then I was surrounded by water. I could see the light on the water's surface but I was pulled down by some current until the light went out altogether. I couldn’t swim, I was drowning and sinking into the dust beneath me. I was being crushed underneath all the dust. Then, I saw a hand around my wrist and a stranger pulled me free. Turned out they were a child. They told me things like, ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ or ‘You did this,’ before pushing me. I was falling again through the darkness and then I woke up.”

You repeat this process of you recalling the nightmares to the best of your ability and Katherine jotting down notes twice more. Some for your recurring dream, and more for your brand new dream from last night. By the time you’re finished, the page was filled with lines and little side notes scattered here and there. Katherine stared down at it intently, a line appearing between her penciled eyebrows.

"What?" You fidgeted nervously as she rolled the pen around and around in her thin fingers, scowling. "Is it bad?"

"It is neither bad nor good. It is confusing." said Katherine, laying the pen back on the table beside the papers. "There are many conflicting meanings," she added, in response to your blank look. "However there are common threads between them.

Seeing dust in your dreams so consistently points toward you ignoring or neglecting certain aspects of yourself. That may tie into the feeling you describe as being crushed under some sort of pressure, which also hints that you are being prevented to fully express yourself in some way.

Darkness is associated with subconscious, evil, fear of the unknown, etcetera. You’ve experienced this aspect of your dream in several different ways, so there are several different possible meanings to it. Failure of some work. Feelings of desperation, depression, or insecurity. You may have insufficient information to make a clear decision. These are all valid.

The feeling of being trapped, claustrophobia, suggests self guilt. Perhaps you have done something and now fear that you will be punished for your past’s actions in some way.

Death is typically seen as a symbol of rebirth, transformation, and self discovery. It’s also used to signal an end per severance or a termination of your old ways and habits.”

Welp. You still didn’t know what any of that meant. Well you could see the self expression and neglect thing kind of making sense and one or two details that could relate to the book but everything else was up in the air.

Your hand raised to pinch the bridge of your nose. "Thanks but, like, what if there are any weird little quirks to the book? What if it randomly starts moving, or say…things start coming through it?”

Katherine did not answer right away. There was a pregnant pause between your question and her reply. When she did part her lips to speak, her voice was thicker with sound, swelling with it. "You left it open didn’t you."

It wasn't a question so much as it was a statement of fact. Your instinct was to deny her claim, but you lowered your eyes and shrugged. How had she known? How had she known any of this in fact?

She swore, in a language you didn't know, immediately opening the book and flipping through it until the damning evidence of the profiles of the skeleton brothers were revealed. “Alright. Listen,” she sighed. “I can't undo what you've done, though it explains why the book is so tightly bound to you, but I can give you something else. Living like a hermit with two magical creatures will catch attention from someone and you’re going to have to keep up appearances. Your guests are going to need a disguise for the duration of their stay.”

“Really? I don’t see how clothes—”

“No, something with more permanence.” She glanced at the faded pages. There was that soft, tinkling laugh again. “Those looks are rather…distinctive. Can’t imagine what it must have been like for you to see them exiting the tome.”

You averted your gaze, shoving down the guilt. This wasn’t the time to be thinking about it.

“The extent of what I can do depends on you, but I’m hoping that since you haven’t died yet, your endurance will be high enough to sustain glamours….”

She took your hand, wrapping her fingers around your wrist. You watched with fascination. There was a warm, tugging sensation beneath her grasp. The feeling got stronger. “Uh, what are you—”

“Are you always this warm?”

“Um…I guess? I don’t feel very warm.”

She frowned, then moved her fingers, grasping a little higher up on your forearm. She frowned again. “Let me see your other arm.” She tried a few different places, but the result was the same. You were becoming concerned, but Katherine suddenly released you with a great exhale of breath. “Well that makes everything easier.”

“What does?”

She rose and glided across the room to the bookcase and dragged down a heavy volume bound. She slowly flipped through the pages, shedding dust and bits of blackened cloth. The pages were thin, almost translucent eggshell parchment, each marked with odd black runic symbols. You caught a glimpse of the title between her fingers.  _A Deceptive Mesmer's Codex._

“After this, you won’t have to worry about mass hysteria due to skeletons. This spell will be tailored to you and them. An illusion will be cast over them and they won’t appear any different from other run of the mill humans. That okay with you?”

“I guess,” you said, unable to keep the doubt from your voice.

She hooked her finger between two pages of the book and came over to you, setting it carefully in your lap. "Now, when I open the book, I want you to study the page. Look at it until you feel something change inside you."

"Will it hurt?" you asked.

She didn't reply and stood up, letting the book fall open in your lap. You stared down at the clean white page with the stark rune spilled across it. You tilted your head. It looked something like a curved 'L' with a few lines branching off it. The mutable corners of the pattern tickled your mind like feathers brushed against sensitive skin. You felt the shivery flicker of reaction, making you want to close your eyes, but you held them open until they stung and blurred. You were about to blink when you felt it: a click inside your head, like a key turning in a lock.

Distantly, you noted that Katherine’s narrow hands came up to touch your face. The skin of her fingers hardly registered but the power you felt in them did, jumping like static electricity to sting your skin. You finally let yourself close your eyes.

Colors swirled up against the darkness behind your eyelids. You felt a pressure, a drawing pull in your head and chest. You clenched your hands, straining against the weight, the blackness. You felt as if you were pressed up against something hard and unyielding, being slowly crushed–

"That's enough." Katherine’s voice cut through the dark, and the lights vanished, a shower of colorful sparks. Your eyes sprang open as she snatched the book off your lap.

Slowly the book-lined walls of the library came back into focus. Katherine was sliding the book back onto its shelf. You became aware of the sharp pains in your hands, and glanced down to see red lines scored across your skin where your nails had dug in.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. "Are you alright?" Katherine asked.

Slowly you moved your head in a nod, curling your fingers in to cover your injured palms. The crushing weight had gone, but you could feel the sweat that drenched your hair, pasted your blouse to your back like sticky tape.

Standing up took a near monumental effort: Muscles you didn’t even know you had ached and burned. But fully righted, feet planted firmly on the floor, you felt the pains just melt away under a soothing, almost numbing, warmth. You tightened your fists, testing out the muscles in your forearms.  _No, they felt alright. The pain was gone. Strange…_

There was some sort of rings around the base of your index and pinky fingers — then, as you lifted it closer to your face, you saw that it wasn’t rings at all but a pattern inked into your skin, a thin matrix of swirling lines. “What’s this? Tattoos?”

“They are the basis for glamours.” Katherine drew her hand back, only to shove what looked like two armbands into your hands. “Illusions are a form of magic that come in many types. Glamours are some of the easiest spells to learn but are among the most difficult to truly understand. It wouldn’t make sense to give you a history lesson but a basic overview will have to do. Glamours are used to create an illusion based on the 'weaving' of light and change the appearance of a person or thing, concealing the true form of something. They are strongest when built on a particular object, or body part belonging to person on which the illusion will resemble.”

“How do the armbands and tattoos work then? Will they just look like me then?” You just couldn’t picture Sans rocking your look. Papyrus maybe, but sure as hell not Sans.

“You’re the anchor for the monsters in this world, so you need to be the anchor for glamours of this magnitude to be consistently maintained. As for appearances, a unique one will be formulated once they put on the armbands. They will not come off unless they or you yourself remove it.”

At this point you simply nodded. You’d at least look like you were following along, instead of how everything seemed to be flying right over your head. You could get the full story after all you learned now sunk in or ask Sans and Papyrus their opinion later on this.

“Well, thank you for the help.” You picked up the tome and slid the armbands onto your wrist. They felt strange, like some elastic silk. “I mean, is there anything else that I ought to know about? I’m not a long lost member of your mage society or something.”

A smile curved her lips, eyes crinkling behind the lenses. “Nothing of the sort. You weren’t born with any obvious magic abilities.” Your sigh of relief was cut short by her following words. “Just be glad I didn’t charge you. Dream interpretation and advice is easy enough to dole out, but glamours of that quality don’t come cheap.

Curious, you asked, “How much would the glamours have normally cost?” The number she rattled off almost made you drop the book. The amount could easily afford the down payment of a house. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t recommend accidentally summoning more monsters.”

“Believe me I don’t plan to. My hands are full as is.”

“Then that’ll be all,” replied Katherine with a cheerfulness that, you felt, didn't really fit the circumstances as she motioned back the way you two came in. “I’m sure I don’t have to worry about you spreading this knowledge around. It’s not exactly good for business if Saps realized how real the magic is here.”

That finally earned a smile from you. A wry one, but a smile all the same. “Who’d believe me anyway?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ey, guess who's back from a sudden trip to Niagara Falls?  
> So no skelebros in this chapter and I admit this is a pretty big info dump here ;v; but I hope that it makes sense and doesn't seem too stilted. This chapter is supposed to serve it's purpose as a set up of many things in the future and to answer a few things plot related.
> 
> If anyone was wondering [here](https://myosctis.tumblr.com/post/164149235946/dream-symbols-ch-7) is the complete list of dream symbolism with some hints hidden in there. Got any questions then feel free to hit me up there too.


	8. Unravel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a puzzling situation, but when has anything not been since Sans and Papyrus dropped in?

“I should really talk to someone about this. Keeping it to myself and bottling up my frustrations, fears and concerns can’t be healthy. It’s not as if the monsters aren’t exactly my first choice with this, when they are probably dealing with this change in their life in their own ways,” you said, index finger tapping a random pattern against the wheel.

Parked just down the road from your house, you decided now was a good time as any to think through things more clearly before you regurgitated info you barely understood back to Sans and Papyrus. Arm propped against the rolled down window, you rested your cheek in your palm. “Then again, while I’m being unhealthy I might as well send a ‘fuck you too’ to the book.”

Most of what you learned hadn’t fully sunken in. Your knowledge of tropes was screaming at you that your life had been twisted into an improbable video game experience. Judging by the weird mystic things you’ve seen so far, you feel as though it’s of the RPG genre.

You should really lie down. Take a breather.

...Or you would, if the nightmares weren’t a problem.

Your hand clenched tighter around your phone, thumb hovering over your list of contacts. Who did you trust to let in on this that wouldn’t immediately write you off? Or at least was the most likely to believe you? You hadn’t been kidding when you admitted most, even your friends, would doubt the existence of magic books.

The screen lit up a little brighter and two words coupled with a flower emoiji flashed onto the screen: _good morning._

Of course.

Sine was the perfect choice.

He lived nowhere near you, but knew enough to offer an inkling of advice on how approach it from his perspective. Not to mention, you’ve been each other’s confidants in the past with some…interesting problems. In the end, the worst he could do was laugh it off and try to make you feel better. Something you sorely needed when you felt you were coming apart at the seams. Just a bit.

But first you’d have to sit through the daily round of jokes.

 **> From: NewSerifInTown** : what did the lawyer say to the judge?

 **> To: NewSerifInTown**: what

 **> From: NewSerifInTown** : iris my case

Que another scoff. You walked right into that. Before you could respond another message popped up, this time a series of hand emojis made as if they were knocking.

 **> To: NewSerifInTown**: who’s there

 **> From: NewSerifInTown** : flower

 **> To: NewSerifInTown**: flower who?

 **> From: NewSerifInTown** : flower you today bud  
**> From: NewSerifInTown** : how’s it growing  
**> From: NewSerifInTown** : are you feeling bouquet today?

You sighed, unsure of how to articulate your response.

 _Hey Sine I’m A-Okay and I’m more than aware that my life has spun into a_ _train wreck._

When worded like that, you wondered if this was how he felt working up the nerve to talk to you about things going on his end. You’d both been hesitant about swapping personal issues but you’d both been in a dark place back then. Remembering a particular conversation about one of his from a few months back almost made you glad you were stuck with nightmares and monsters.

 **> To: NewSerifInTown**: no not really

 **> From: NewSerifInTown** : what happened

 **> To: NewSerifInTown**: you know that feel? Like as if your life keeps spiraling out of control the moment you think you’ve found some solid footing? Idk it’s kinda ridiculous

 **> From: NewSerifInTown** : yea. do you need someone to talk to?

 **> To: NewSerifInTown**: if you’ve got time, I’d appreciate it.

After a minute, the phone began ringing its signature tone. “So how awful is it?” Sine asked as soon as you pick up. “Is it ‘bad day at work’ green? ‘House burned down’ yellow? Or ‘utter bullshit and the universe is screwing me over’ red?”

You managed a small laugh, “Red.”

“Heh. That’s…pretty bad.” He paused. “So things are going to hell. Has your family been murdered? Are you stuck in a time loop? A series of unfortunate, horrific events just happened?”

“It’s more along the lines of the last one. So, I know you’re not a stranger to weird things but this is kind of ridiculous. It started on moving day and I found this dusty book. The day after I moved in monsters from another universe popped out it. Skeletons to boot.”

_“What?”_

“Yeah.”

There’s a long stretch of silence. Just when you thought you made a complete fool of yourself or that the call had cut out, Sin’s voice crackled back to life, “Kay, uh, start from the beginning.”

Eventually you made it through the most thorough recounting of the past two weeks to date. You wanted to keep it vague at first, but with all the questions Sine needled you with you wound up admitting essentially everything. It must’ve sounded like complete nonsense. It did to you. Yet, he listened to your gibberish with an open ear. The moment you finished your story this nerd was spitting out theories left and right. Science was right up his alley.

“After what I’ve seen in my life alternate universes, timelines, and things of the like don't seem implausible at all. Scientifically speaking, there’s evidence in quantum physics that suggests it to be true.” he said, genuine interest coloring his words. “You’ve heard of Schrödinger’s timeline, right?” You made an affirmative hum. “And I’ve already told what I think about that. The crux of the matter is that they’re here now. Monsters appearing in this world could be from a timeline where they exist among humans.”

“Wait, you really believe me?” You had hoped for something like this, but Sine had accepted it too readily. Or maybe you were more skeptic than you originally thought yourself to be.

“Of course I do,” he remarked, then you heard shuffling.

You couldn’t detect any doubt.

“But…why?” you questioned.

“Why had _you_ believed _me?_ You could’ve just as easily called me crazy when I first told you. Hell, I thought I was for a little bit there. But you didn’t. If you were capable of putting that much trust in me, then I’m willing to do the same.”

Slowly, the pressure your fingers exerted on your phone eased and the burden on your shoulders seemed to lighten ever so slightly. You blinked, thinking as to what just happened.

An echo of a smile touched your lips as your murmured your thanks.

You felt so…

Validated.

* * *

You swivelled your spoon in the lukewarm milk, thoughts drifting elsewhere as your eyes stared at the bobbing bits of cereal. The tome sat on the kitchen table to your left, the afternoon sunlight that peaked through the window blinds reflecting off its cover.

“so that’s what happened?”

You glanced at your bag, the dream notes tucked away between the armbands, among other things. They’d been imparted to you after a few more words of advice from Katherine as she saw you out of her shop. "Yeah. That’s more or less everything."

It wouldn’t hurt them if you kept your nightmares to yourself.

"and from the sounds of things, us getting back home are wholly dependent on you?"

"Pretty much," you answered. "If we're lucky, we can figure out the whole game level system thing soon, but I doubt it. It'll probably at some point when we least expect it. That’s how these things always seem to go anyway."

"great. guess we’re just stuck with you for now, then."

"Sucks to suck," you muttered.

A tired, half hearted scoff sounded across the table; Sans was staring down at his plate and gripping his mug like a lifeline but there was the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth.

“i thought you said there was no magic in this world.” Sans said around a sip of his coffee. “apparently that’s a little skewed now.”

You grunted at that, tone shifting into one that suited your lax posture. “Apparently I know fuck all. I’m going to take a guess that they’re a dying breed or some super secret society. From how she was reluctant to talk about and the things she did let slip, I’m thinking the former. Still nothing about monsters though.”

His eye lights grazed over you with a raised brow bone. “doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“Doesn’t mean they do either,” you replied. “Even if they did, from how Papyrus described it you were freed months ago. Don’t you think it would’ve taken around the same amount of time as you guys and they’d be out and about? They should have the same tools, method or whatever that you used to get out.” You shrugged. “Maybe the book is this world’s way of compensating for their absence.”

It made sense to you.

Sans said nothing, finishing the last of his coffee and absorbed in the thoughts your comment seemed to spark.

You stood, clearing off your side of the table and dumping the dishes into the sink to wash. You’re in the middle of scrubbing the plate clean when a thought hit you. “How weird would it be if there was native version of you living in this world? Can’t imagine how that meeting would go down. Double points if he was pretty much like you.”

You chanced a glance back at Sans who had stilled. After a moment, he tilted his head and seemed to think it over, eye lights focused off to the side. Then he faced you with one of his patented shit eating grins.

Oh, no.

“i suppose you should prepare for double trouble since you found yourself betwin a rock and a hard place.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, but you covered it up with a small, exasperated sigh. You couldn’t turn around fast enough to miss the calculating look in his eye sockets.

You heard him shuffle in his seat. “You ordered one and got two. Or you could think of it as a buy one, get one free deal.”

“Thank god return policies are a thing,” you retorted, rinsing the suds off the plate and placing it in the dish rack. “The product isn’t meeting my requirements.”

“sorry kid. all sales are final and your warranty expired just expired. manufacturer isn’t responsible anymore.” You huffed, toweling your hands dry. Sans kept the balling rolling as he folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “you wound me kid. has this other me already stolen all your friendship points? guess we’d have a _dual_ to death. there can only be one. though I think we’d be stuck in a stalemate. as the saying goes, nobody knows you better than you know yourself.”

“Sans.”

“you’re right. forget you, we can go off and get hitched. it’d be a perfect match made in heaven.”

You were this close to cracking a laugh. But that was what he was edging you on for and you’re determined not to give in first. “God, forget I even brought it up.”

“well. you know what they say about parallel lines. so much in common, shame they'll never meet.” You made a face but he had already changed tacks. "so you hanging with papyrus today?” he asked. “he seemed pretty excited when he got up this morning."

“Yeah. Promised I would do his friendship puzzles,” you said. “You know where he is?”

“said he’d be waiting in the back for you.”

“Thanks.”

“one more thing kiddo.” You paused in the doorway, looking back at him in confusion. “he also recommended that you should wear something outdoorsy. his puzzles might take a little while to do.” His grin grew, as though he knew something particularly funny, some inside joke that you weren’t privy to. It made your skin prickle with a touch of irritation.

By the time you threw on a pair of tights and an old black tank top and jogged downstairs Sans had disappeared. The kitchen was empty, all signs of him gone from the room. You stared at the spot he once occupied before shrugging it off and sliding open the side door. Outside you spotted Papyrus off to the side, closer to the treeline than the house. He held your attention for a moment and then you saw _it_.

You hadn’t understood what Sans had meant but when faced with what Papyrus had crafted it was made all too clear.

When Papyrus said he set up puzzles, the image that came to mind was much more subdued. A little series of tasks to do. A search and find this item. Something along those lines that could feasibly be completed within ten or fifteen minutes. An hour tops. Not the sprawling puzzle dungeon that sprung up in the backyard and beyond. More than a few appeared to be works in progress.

After your talk with Sine, you figured you would get nowhere being stuck working out the logistics of all the weird stuff that kept cropping up at every waking moment. You had decided you may as well have to approach your life now with a ‘no fucks are given’ policy when it came to the skeletons. This as a first step and arriving on the heels of the discovery you’ve made today was a little much.

But maybe that was what you needed right now.

You knew you needed to think about it more, but a single minded task to draw your focus from the implications behind the overwhelming wealth of information became more appealing the more you thought on it.

You turned your attention from the switches dotting the grass at seemingly random intervals to Papyrus. “What _is_ this?”

“IT IS SEVERAL MASTERFULLY CONSTRUCTED PUZZLES CONDENSED INTO ONE GIANT PUZZLE.”

“Several?”

You hadn’t even seen the whole thing yet and you still found yourself baffled yet amazed. How had he even made half of this? The tools in the shed weren’t capable of this. Or at least you didn’t think so. When was the last time you rifled through the things shut away in there with a critical eye?

“to be fair, he did start with just one and then kept adding on.”

You blinked and looked to your left. Sans was by the trees, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Deciding to not even contemplate when he got there, you rubbed your temples and faced Papyrus again. "Okay, so what do I need to do?"

“YOU KNOW ABOUT THE HILL OVER THERE?” He pointed towards a particular group of trees south of the house and you nodded. You’ve been to that hill many times in your childhood, but, like the house, you haven’t seen it since your grandmother passed away. It was a thirty minute walk if your memories were accurate. “YOU START HERE AND THEN HAVE TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE PUZZLES TO RETRIEVE THE PRIZE LEFT THERE.”

You relaxed slightly. “Okay. That doesn’t seem too bad.”

“NYEH,” Papyrus gestured you to the first puzzle. “TRY THIS CONUNDRUM BEFORE DECIDING! WE’LL BE UP AHEAD. IF YOU NEED A HINT JUST ASK.”

“good luck, kid.”

“YOU CAN DO IT, Y/N. I BELIEVE IN YOU!”

Papyrus ran off into the forest, his brother trailing in his footsteps at his own languid pace. Rolling your shoulders, you faced your first challenge.

Two circular switches were on the ground, one blue and one orange. On the blue switch some distance away was a small mirror. Obviously you had to get that. Walking to it, you realized the mirror was _in_ the switch. Any attempts to pick it up were rebuffed with a light static shock. It wasn’t enough to really hurt but the prickling sensation left behind in your chest discouraged any thoughts of giving that another try.

Frowning, you went back to the orange switch and stepped on it, the color flickering to blue. A glance revealed the other switch had also changed, but instead to orange. You were halfway to the mirror when the switches suddenly reverted back to their original colors. You walked back and did it again, this time running to the mirror but seconds before you could pick it up it turned blue. A third try yielded the same results.

The switches were on a timer, but no matter how fast you ran you couldn’t quite make it. You stood and stared at the orange switch. Thinking outside the box sometimes worked. So… what if you just moved the first switch closer?

Kneeling, you prodded alongside the edge of the metal plating, fingers slowly worming underneath it and dislodging it from the ground. You lifted the switch and hefted it along, plopping it a foot away from it’s twin. You grinned and tapped the first switch with your sneaker, a little bit of triumph rising in your chest as the second lit up orange. The skin of your hand tingled as it phased through the switch and in one smooth motion you claimed the mirror.

One down.

Humming a random tune under your breath, you started walking in the direction Sans and Papyrus disappeared to, weaving through trees.

That first puzzle wasn’t too difficult, it probably should’ve been solved another way but one: you weren’t a sprinter. For someone with legs as long as Papyrus the puzzle wasn’t worth it to break a sweat over. Two: magic had been involved and as someone with an extremely limited understanding of it, you weren’t feeling too bad about your method.

You slowed upon coming to a patch of light in the middle of your path. Normally you wouldn’t have given it a second glance, but seeing as the sunlight was coming from a completely different direction than the sun itself, you suspected Papyrus had something to do with it.

Looking around you eventually found the culprit. Nestled between two branches up in a tree was a mirror, set up to redirect the light coming from yet another mirror that was angled to the sun. Their placement and the mirror you held gave you Zelda vibes, prompting you to stand in the beam of light. You did the sensible thing and pulled out your mirror.

You spent a few minutes refracting light all over the place until finally it shone on a forth mirror hanging behind a pair of trees on a low hanging branch. You watched, mouth agape as _that_ mirror went onto reflect light onto a series of other hidden mirrors until it bounced off one high up in the trees and underneath some bushes something gleamed back.

A bag of marbles sat in a burrow hole, one marble placed just right on top of it to illuminate from the darkness when a light source was shined on it.

You had to take a moment and step back to appreciate what you’d just seen.

Honestly, you were very impressed now.

Setting up that for the light to hit the mirrors just right at the right time of the day was incredible. You didn’t think you could manage to work out the exact calculations for this puzzle to be feasible. What would’ve happened if you’d done this puzzle in the morning, or even earlier in the afternoon? You’d have to ask Papyrus.

Sliding the mirror and marble into the bag, you continued. An opening slowly peaked through the trees and you stepped into a small clearing. The gap in the earth twice your height, too wide to jump across and in your way. You’d walk around it if it wasn’t for the fact it was another puzzle. Further past the ditch a dark blue ‘O’ was imprinted in the grass. You had to throw the marbles into the circle, a task only made difficult by it’s distance.

The first attempt consisted of you rearing your arm and chucking a marble into the air.

It sailed into the trees beyond.

The next overshot too.

The next fell too short.

One hit the edge of the circle.

Another bounced off a tree.

 “Come on,” you muttered, rolling a marble between your fingers. You were down to half a bag left and the muscles of your shoulder were groaning in protest at the constant repetitive failed throws. You had adjusted your aim, narrowing down the landing of the marble, so it was only a matter of time.

Sure enough, the chosen one found it’s mark. It hit the circle’s center and bounced once. Twice. It rolled through the grass, edging towards the circle’s limit, and came to a slow stop.

You could’ve leapt for joy.

The circle brightened and an identical one lit up on your side. It didn’t seem to do anything and you were still left without a way to cross. You were forced to spend more time looking around and discovered a conspicuous rock off to the side. It was marked with a small red ‘X’ and roughly half your height. Now that you looked again you noticed a path worn in the dirt underneath all the leaves, leading from the rock to the circle and the side of the gap. Tapping your shoe against it, the ground had a sort of give to it, like mud.

The puzzle didn’t take as long as the others once you came to the conclusion that you had to push the rock over and use it as a stepping stone. The process was made much easier by the mud path but was still a challenge all its own for your twig arms. By the time you toppled the rock into the ditch with a resounding thud, your arms were screaming from the strain and your chest burned.

You stood on the rock carefully and jumped to the other side. You lurched forward on unsteady, quivering legs and collapsed among the grass and flowers as you wheezed a breathy laugh. You wiped the sweat slicked hair out of your face with the back of your hand.

You did it. You were across.

How many puzzles were left? The hill wasn’t that far off now but the pull of exhaustion weighing down your limbs was growing more noticeable. You _were_ running on two hours of sleep.

You laid there for a moment, catching your breath, before hauling yourself up. The only thing you could hope for now was a puzzle as fun as the light mirror one.

It wasn’t long before you stumbled upon both the next puzzle and the skeleton brothers. The hill was just past them, rising out of the ground to reach for the sky. The monsters were standing near - wouldn’t you know it - more switches.

Well, Papyrus was at any rate. Sans was reclining in the grass with a cell phone, only sparing you an brief look before tapping at whatever occupied his attention on the screen. You hadn’t even known they had phones.

"SO, AS I WAS SAYING–" Papyrus cut off once he spied your weary form coming his way, and clasped his hands together. The bright smile that lit up his face was almost worth pushing that heavy ass rock. “WOWIE! YOU FIGURED IT OUT THE SOLUTIONS IN SUCH A TIMELY MANNER! HOW PAPYRUS OF YOU.” It’d been an hour since you started and he counted that was a job well done? Fine by you. “HOWEVER!! THE NEXT PUZZLES WILL NOT BE AS EASY!”

You reflexively grimaced. If these next ones weren’t easy then what hell was all of that you just did now?

“I THINK YOU WILL BE… QUITE _STARSTRUCK_ AFTER THIS PUZZLE!”

“good one bro.”

“I KNOW IT IS.” Papyrus strode over to you and dropped a glassy, dark blue orb on your hair. Remarkably it didn’t slide off. Papyrus continued explaining, “NOW, THIS IS A BALL GAME, CO-DESIGNED BY MY BROTHER. YOU MUST MOVE IN STRAIGHT LINES. VERTICAL AND HORIZONTAL ONLY. IF YOU DON’T, THIS ORB WILL GET HEAVIER UNTIL YOU CAN NO LONGER MOVE AND ARE FORCED TO START OVER. UNDERSTAND?”

You nodded.

“GREAT, YOU CAN GO AHEAD NOW. COME BACK IF YOU NEED A NEW ORB.”

Gingerly, you removed the orb. It weighed almost nothing, a magnetic pressure present and buzzing to life between your cupped palms.

You slanted your eyes and stole a cursory look about the field. Several meters away stood wooden stands labelled one through five, an equal number of baskets perched atop them. Between you and them was a multitude of red lines drawn into the ground. It took a bit examination to conclude it was meant to emulate a maze of sorts.

Behind that was presumably the next puzzle, a large array of colored tiles that morphed the grass into a bastardized version of a disco floor.

You stared at the new challenges with interest, before you faced Papyrus, who had been watching you expectantly, and raised a hand, “Before I start can I have a clue?”

You’re certain you didn’t imagine the brief flicker of surprise on Papyrus’ face, but it’s gone the second you blink. You kept your eyes locked on him, decidedly choosing not to acknowledge the sudden shift in attention from Sans. You couldn’t see him properly, only in your peripherals but you _knew_ he hadn’t missed the change in his brother either. Now he’s the one regarding you with an odd expression.

You carefully maintained the neutral look affixed to your face. Internally, tension slowly twisted your insides as you worried if you said something wrong. Papyrus had stated at the start that you could ask for help.

Papyrus burst into motion, striking a heroic pose before anyone else could react. “SO, YOU WANT A HINT, HUH? WELL… I'VE BEEN LOOKING AT THE PUZZLE AND I THINK THE SOLUTION...IS TO PLACE ALL OF THE ORBS INTO THE CORRECT BASKETS. YOU SHOULD TRY THAT!”

“O-Oh. Thank you.”

“IT IS NO TROUBLE!” The gleeful, enthusiastic smile he wore eased your nerves and you returned a hesitant one of your own. “ASK AGAIN FOR MORE GREAT HINTS!”

Gradually, your shoulders loosened from their stiff state. You were overthinking again. Everything must be fine.

You casted a look at Sans.

Nevermind.

The focused, reticent stare fixated on you contrasted the easy posture he now assumed. He had tossed all pretenses of not paying attention out the window, sitting upright with hands shoved in his hoodie pockets but his smile appeared more shrunken than usual.

You couldn’t completely quell the reflex to flinch, fingers twitching in their hold on the orb. Anxiety spiked, burning in the pit of your gut then mellowing out into unease. Forcing yourself to challenge his gaze, you took a breath of air in through your nose and offered a small, tentative smile.

He blinked, but there was no other outward reaction that you could see from your position.

With a slow breath, you tightened your grip on the orb and faced forward.

What was with this guy? One moment he’s all easygoing jokes and nonchalant attitude, the next he pulls a complete one-eighty, and others he couldn’t care less.

Focus returning to the puzzle at hand, you attempted to examine the maze again. It was a crisscrossed assortment of curved, wavy, diagonal and straight lines. There wasn’t a lot of room to deviate from the chosen path once picked. You took a few steps into the maze until you came to the first fork in the road.

This would be so much easier if you had an overhead view.

You made an arbitrary decision to go left, coming across an odd yellow marking in the grass. A series of dots connected by thin lines to form an odd shape. You stepped over it, taking turns and finding more of the yellow symbols.

A shiver rolled up your spine. You couldn’t quite brush of the feeling Sans was cataloging your every move. You wondered what he was thinking.

Panting, you eventually made it out to the other side of the maze. Your arms shook with minute trembles. More than once you accidentally picked the paths that seemed straight and narrow until you realized it was making subtle curves, thus magnifying the weight of the ball to the mass of an overloaded shopping basket.

Now which stand do you put it on?

You froze.

You didn’t know. You had been so consumed by the task of trying to scurry to freedom, you paid no thought to the after.

“Just think of it’s as a multiple choice, y/n,” you tittered nervously. “Twenty percent chance of getting the right answer.”

Hazarding a guess, you began heaving the orb up to the stand labelled ‘2’. Your brows pulled together and creased as the glass exterior touched the lining of the basket.

Inside, at the very bottom, was a yellow marking.

The magnetic pressure that kept weighing down the ball suddenly swelled and a sharp flash of sensation exploded along your hands as a white light temporarily blinded you.

Releasing a startled squeak, you hurriedly caught yourself from tumbling backward and brought your hands up too late to shield your eyes. When nothing else happened you slowly lowered your hands. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the sound just made, you peeked over your shoulder to shoot a light glare at the two grinning skeletons. You didn’t think much of their reaction before a hand peeled off from the basket soaked in  _glitter_. It slowly settled in.

You beat hasty withdrawal from the remains of the orb as if it burned. It may as well have. Your eyes widened upon taking in the sight, the utter horror, of the glitter disaster. 

No.

_No!_

You’re _infected!_

The other hand rubbed at your face. Just as suspected, it now matched your once clean hand, both lighting up in small sparkles. Glitter always found its way into every nook and cranny, near impossible to completely rid oneself of. Hints of it would be spotted  _weeks_ later with this insane amount.

why  _why **why wHY WHY-**_

It took a few minutes to calm down enough to process your surroundings. You spent another composing yourself before walking right over the red lines back to the start. You didn’t even spare a glance at Sans, stopping in front of Papyrus.

 “…May I have another ball?” you asked, features schooled into a blank canvas.

“OF COURSE!” Papyrus spun away to pop open a chest you hadn’t noticed before. The darkness of its insides were blocked by Papyrus’ broad frame as he rummaged around inside it.

Sans seemed content to study you from his spot, “i take it you weren’t blinded by awe?” There’s still an odd intensity to his gaze but you weren’t in the mood to read his strange expressions any deeper than surface level. And what you saw was the lingering remnants of laughter.

Your lips twitched.

“You also designed this puzzle didn’t you?” Your voice, dangerously gentle and soft, flowed off your tongue with the venom mixed into your smile. He was quiet for another moment. The instant you discerned you wouldn’t receive a reply, you rolled your eyes. “Well, it’s helpful to know how you get your kicks Sans.”

You intended to keep your tone light, but the sharp edge to it couldn’t be helped. It took every strand of your self control not to curl your mouth into a sneer. You shook your head instead and accepted the second ball from Papyrus, a duplicate of the first. Little white dots tucked at the very center of it caught your eye.

You turned back to the maze, mouth settled into a thin line.

This wasn’t the time to be bested by a puzzle. The previous ones were a little hard but you’ve come this far. You had a sense of progression and the end was literally in sight.

The next time you stepped up to the yellow line-dots, you stared. You looked to the ball with its little dots, to the numbered stands, and back to the markings. The _star_ markings in the shapes of _constellations_. The solution clicked in your mind, and you simply understood what you’d been missing all along.

Oh.

_Oh._

Each orb represented a constellation, and each stand represented the number of constellations that appears on the ground. All you had to do was wander the maze, locate the right amount of constellations, and place a ball into the basket on the stand that matched the number you counted.

An idea formed in your head, and you edged your way of the maze once again. A feat accomplished much faster with methodical precision. After a minute of closely observing the markings inside the baskets you moved to the middle stand of the row. Balancing the slightly heavier orb with one hand you eased the basket off and lowered it to the ground.

“WHAT IS SHE…” Papyrus’ voice easily carried across the maze. “OH. OH, SANS LOOK!”

You had clambered onto the stand and was overlooking the entire maze. The four sets of constellations were seen with no trouble at this height. The dots in the orb corresponded to the first of the four constellation. Each star pattern appeared multiple times, but they were like isomers and positioned in various different angles.

“Stand one, stars five….” You’re biting the tip of your tongue and mumbling to yourself under your breath, too focused to register much of the excited sentences tumbling out of Papyrus’ mouth a mile a minute. “Stand two, three… three, one… four, two….”

When you’re done memorizing, the rest of the puzzle was a cakewalk. You’re quite pleased to crow a gratuitous ‘yes!’ as you tossed the final orb into the second basket and trotted back to Papyrus with a triumphant smile.

“WOW!! YOU DID IT! OH MY GOODNESS, YOUR SKILL IN UNIQUE PUZZLE SOLVING IS INCREDIBLE!” Papyrus was practically glowing, jittering in place. “I WAS CERTAIN THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE ONE TO STUMP YOU! YOU MUST BE A LOVER OF PUZZLES LIKE MYSELF!”

“I like them in small doses,” you admitted, scratching at the itch on your cheek. Glitter sprinkled down. “Makes me feel smart. I’m pretty persistent but I’m glad you gave me that hint at the beginning.”

“MY ADVICE HELPED? IT REALLY HELPED YOU?!"

His excitement was infectious. Still feeling high off the feeling of victory, you smiled to yourself and let out a small, endeared chuckle. Just this once. “It sure did. Don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Papyrus emitted a high pitched sound. You’re still processing it – A squeal. That’s the closest descriptor your mind could supply – when his hands clamped on your shoulders and your vision became nothing but the visage of the tall skeleton beaming down at you. “A GENUINE COMPLIMENT? IT SHOWS HOW MUCH YOU REALLY CARE! YOU'RE ALREADY BECOMING A GREAT PERSON! I'M SO PROUD I COULD CRY!!"

Whoa, this was the first time he’s consciously touched you since your maybe-panic attack the night they arrived.

You’re not sure how to react.

Normally you wouldn’t think too hard into something as little as this, but you’d been interacting with Papyrus on the generated basis that he seemed to really care about his personal space. For all the first impressions about his personality that may depict him as the ‘hugger’ type, he rarely seemed to like being touched.

“TAKING YOUR PLEA INTO CONSIDERATION I’M GLAD TO OFFER MY ASSISTANCE! FEEL FREE TO CALL FOR MY HELP IN ANY TIME OF NEED!” Papyrus started, breaking your train of thought. “NOW THEN, I'M SURE YOU'LL LIKE THE NEXT AND FINAL PUZZLE. COMPLETE THAT AND OUR BOND OF FRIENDSHIP WILL OFFICIALLY BE CONSUMMATED!”

You don’t fight as he guided you past the maze, closer to the hill.

The thoughts about yourself and past actions that his little speech stirred were better off tossed into a pit to never see the light of day. You’re not eager to wake up and smell the plague or navigate the minefield that was self-introspection surrounding said pit.

Despite that and your body demanding you sit and take a break, you somehow felt a little bit better. You’re not as reluctant to acknowledge one thing.

Papyrus really was a pretty cool dude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to wrap up the puzzles into one chapter. But then Sans happened. Blame him.  
> Also I have a newfound respect for all good puzzle designers.
> 
> Find me at this [tumblr](https://myosctis.tumblr.com). I post stuff about this story there sometimes.


	9. Sleepless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares suck. Not sleeping for days on end? Pretty awful. Balancing life on top of those? Don't even get started on it.

You regretted this decision. You regretted it when your knees wobbled in protest to every move you made. You regretted it when you had to lean forward on your knees to help clear your lungs after an embarrassingly bad attempt to smother a squeak. You mostly regretted it when you almost tripped over your own feet only to find you’ve messed up yet again when you were so close to the finish line. You tried to shake your arms free of their numbness after another magic static shock coursed through your muscles. It might have been funny if it was happening to someone else. You tried to hold back a groan as you struggled to draw yourself upright and drag your body back to the start, rubbing the back of your head.

Left, right, right, left.

Was it too late to take back your statement about Papyrus? Left, straight four, right, right. You didn’t mean it in a mean way but god this sadistic disco lights floor puzzle had tested your patience.

After a decent amount of time, you had come to the realization that this was one of those 8x8 grid puzzles where you had to step on all of the unlit tiles only once in a specific order. The kind that had you spending an absurd amount of time with the trial and error method. A series of turns that had you feeling like you were walking in a zigzag pattern. The answer was completely randomized. There’d been no asking for hints this time around.

Right…

You stopped, examining the ground in front of you. A smile slowly curved your lips. There were only a few tiles left, and only one way left to trigger all of them.

Eager to get it over with, you practically ran to the exit, tiles lighting up a colorful array at your heels. You didn’t stop there, sprinting up the hill. Your shoes skidded on the grass, your calves burned, and it was an awful decision in hindsight but who cared? It was finally over.

You fell to your knees at the hilltop, fisted hands raised to the orange burnt sky. “In your face puzzles!” A little dramatic but words alone could not express your relief at freedom.

Your hoarse cry of victory was matched by Papyrus’ own from below. “YOU DID IT!!”

Birds took to wing at the loud sounds, glistening black in the afternoon light, endlessly flitting and darting, skimming insects out of the breeze. Falling forward onto your stomach, a sigh slipped free as you rolled onto your back. Blinking at the light, you clutched blades of green between your strained fingers.

Magic, mages and puzzles. What a day, but you were glad it was coming to an end. Maybe this chapter of your life would have a similar resolution as peaceful as this one. One day soon hopefully.

Oh right. Papyrus said you had to retrieve a prize. What was it anyway?

You pulled yourself up into a sitting position, eyes slowly skimming the flat hilltop and resting on a white box on the ground, gift wrapped with a red ribbon. You peeled off the string of fabric and the top. A combination of disbelief and laughter bubbled within your chest as you stared down at it’s contents.

A plate of cold spaghetti.

The feeling stayed with you as you meandered down the hill, to be swept into a hearty round of congratulations by Papyrus and gifted his number.

* * *

Curled up on the couch underneath a blanket, you had forgone dinner to research more into the dream notes scattered around you on the couch. Maybe you could decode the meanings using the power of the internet before your body decided it had enough of your plan for self imposed insomnia in avoidance of nightmares. You would normally scoff at this idea. It was clearly not the best way to go about life. But you wanted to put off the inevitable for a little longer.

The tap of the laptop computer keys had a way of settling your jittery nerves. The constant, repetitive act reminded you that you were making progress on work. No matter what was going wrong, making your anxiety thrash around in your stomach like a vindictive fish hooked on a line, if your mind was filled with work and set towards something useful at least that said you’re on your way to solving a problem. Never stop moving. Always keep going. You could sleep when you’re dead. Although you’re not entirely sure the quiet of death could soften the constant noise in your head at this point. Your typing can't quite keep pace with the rapid fire stride of your thoughts.

Finally you acknowledged the skeleton who’d been hovering nearby, but hadn’t said a word yet.

“Something wrong?”

Papyrus blinked, as though gathering himself, mouth pulled down into a neutral look as you continued to type. “I’M A LITTLE WORRIED YOU MAY HAVE PUSHED YOUR LIMITS A LITTLE TOO MUCH.”

“I’m just a little tired. Had a pretty exciting day after all.”

Your aching body, though, had a very different opinion. One closer to Papyrus’ as he insisted, “THEN IT MIGHT BE A GOOD IDEA TO TAKE AN ACTUAL NAP AND REST.”

“Maybe later. Don’t think I can right now. Too many thoughts buzzing around up here,” you said, tapping the side of your head as you looked down to avoid eye contact. “But that’s fine. I think I’ll just hang out down here until I have to sleep. Nothing to worry about.”

From what you could tell, there was no way the dreams were going to ‘let you take an actual nap and rest.’ They weren’t going to let you return to a peaceful sleep. That was your problem, no one else’s.

It's awkwardly quiet for a minute before Papyrus piped up. “WELL, LET’S STAY UP TOGETHER!”

You frowned and quirked your brow, watching as he closed your laptop and placed it on the coffee table. You didn’t know what Papyrus was thinking.

“I VOTE WE HAVE A MOVIE NIGHT!” he announced, the cheeriness masking the concern clear to your eyes. You still didn’t say anything, just hooked your hands in front of your bent knees. “UNFORTUNATELY, I DON’T HAVE ANY METTATON MOVIES BUT WE CAN SETTLE FOR SOMETHING ELSE THAT’S COOL AND HEROIC.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“BUT I WANT TO!”

You held in a sigh, shoulders rising and falling. He didn’t seem like he was going to let it go. “Okay, your choice. I guess you want to start now?”

“YES.”

You pointed out where you kept your movies, stacked underneath the television on the stand. Your eyes lingered on him as he leafed through them and as you both threw suggestions back and forth. You tried to pretend you didn’t notice the way relief smoothed out some of the worry in his face. When did you obtain these half decent skills at reading a skeleton’s expression cues?

Three superhero movies later Papyrus was out cold in the armchair, a half eaten bowl of popcorn laid discarded next to your laptop. You didn't have the heart or energy to wake him up. The living room was dark except for the eerie light coming off the television screen, the title screen of the finished Marvel movie on a constant loop. You hadn’t even paid much attention to the last third of the film, your thoughts creeping out from the hallowed shadows of the room to plague you in your state of weakness.

Oh well, you weren't that invested anyways.

You leaned your head back on the couch. Sighing, you watched the rise and fall of his breathing for a while. It was nice to hang out with him this afternoon. You think the book craziness had impacted everyone pretty hard. Despite the hectic morning, today was a good day. You needed days like this where nothing else happened. It's a nice break. This little movie thing was okay too.

You pushed aside the blanket and notes with a rustle of fabric shifting against paper. You had lost track of time. A glance at the clock hanging on the wall and the sudden sharp crick in your neck informed you that you’ve been sitting in place for far longer than you thought. Three am.

The move from the couch onto your feet wasn’t a pleasant one. The kink in your neck settled heavy on your shoulders and the arches of your feet cramped when you tried to put weight on them. You took take in a slow, steadying breath and leveled your hands in front of your chest before reaching them above your head with a deep inhale. Stretching would only get you so far. Your arms and legs felt numb and heavy like you were carrying an invisible weight you couldn't shake. That weight was exhaustion and you knew the feel of it all too well. It clung to you when you went without sleep.

Only the reason behind this run wasn’t exactly your fault.

You turned off the television and reached for your discarded phone. No new messages flashed as you flicked on your phone. You knew that without looking. You would’ve heard it ring or tweet out an alert, but you looked anyway. You’ve been known to get caught up in your work after all. You might have missed it.

There was nothing to miss.

A slight shuffle of movement interrupted your musings and you frowned into the darkness. You balled your left hand into a fist, rubbing your eyes with more force than was probably advisable.

Really, what was Papyrus thinking? Falling asleep on the couch, keeping you company, his enthusiasm about befriending you. Why did he care at all about your wellbeing?

Though you couldn’t believe in it, that you knew it was all for naught, just the sentiment made you feel better. It didn’t last long as your thoughts drifted again. You heard Katherine. Your life would belong to this world, until you completed the game or until you died. And you assumed the nightmares — oh, sorry, _messages_ to come meant they were a part of the package. There was nothing he could do to help.

You pushed down with your palms until little star bursts lit up in your vision against the darkness of your eyelids. You wanted to do something, or more accurately hit something. Instead you let out a sigh that echoed in the silence of the room and only made your shoulders slump further.

Even the thoughts of work couldn't calm you now that you've thought of the one thing you were adamant about avoiding. Your stomach let out a sudden, angry growl and you’re happy for the distraction. You couldn't remember when you ate last aside from the quick bowl of cereal.

You tucked the phone into your shorts and leaned over the couch. Slipping it out from underneath the papers, you pulled the blanket free and laid it over Papyrus. You spared an extra moment to tuck it in around his snoozing form.

“Thank you Papyrus,” you whisper, staring at him for a moment longer.

You shook your head and slunk towards the kitchen, straining your ears to hear if anything else was moving about. You’re not in the mood for surprises. The kitchen was dark and quiet save for your shuffling. Your eyes squinted at the sudden influx of light when you flip the switch and staggered over to the coffee pot in the corner. Coffee will make things better. Reserved for desperate times, it hasn't failed you yet.

The small task of filling the coffee filter complete, you leaned against the counter and pulled down a mug. You could already imagine holding the steaming coffee close to you, as though the heat seeping into your hands alone could ward off the pull of sleep. But there was no time to reflect on it.

You caught a glimpse of Sans ghosting past the doorway to the hall. From the direction of the living room, the opposite of where the stairs were. You hadn’t heard or seen him when he came down at all. Dim eyes, t-shirt loose on his hunched frame, slippered feet dragging on the floor. He looked drawn into himself, all his lightheartedness and color had been stripped away. He noticed you around the same time as you jerked in surprise and fumbled to keep a steady grip on the cup. The coffee grounds exploded across the counter-top and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from cursing or hitting something in childish frustration. You’re letting today get the better of you.

 _“Sans?”_ You whispered. “Are you some sort of goddamn boogeyman?”

The deer caught in headlights look faded, replaced by something more placid as his eye lights flickered back into existence. “nah, though some might say my sick dance moves are frightening to watch,” he shrugged, voice thick with sleep. “was just checking on papyrus. i thought that, uh, you’d be sleeping too.”

You shook one hand in a lazy attempt at a jazz hand. “Surprise.”

The corner of his mouth twitched before settling back into his default grin.

You turned your back on him and started to clean up the coffee grounds with renewed vigor. Don't think about it. The counter would be spotless by the time you were done.

If Papyrus could pick up on something being wrong with you, then you wouldn’t put it past the other brother either to be remarkably observant when it suited him. Sans might have been in his own world a good deal of the time, but you weren’t going to slip up and invite him to step into yours where the awful thoughts made their home and sleep seemed like an abstract concept.

There’s nothing for a long minute and you were thinking he might’ve left when his voice soon shattered that fantasy.

"you get any sleep last night?” He presented it as a question, when one look at you would tell him the answer. “papyrus said you weren’t here when he got up this morning."

"I had work to do," you replied in place of answering out right.

"uh huh," You didn’t turn around to see his expression when it was probably steeped in the same disbelief dripping from his words. "so that's what? two nights in a row? three? are you trying for some kind of record?"

"Eleven days," you mumbled, remembering some long-ago read article. "The record is eleven days. In my world anyway."

"and you're going to break it?"

"I'm not- I just- I'm just saying the record is eleven days. Two is nothing. Three is nothing," you warbled in a jumble of words that barely constituted a response. You could feel his stare on your back this time, skin prickling as your instincts prodded at you to face the source of that unease. Why were you justifying yourself to him? "Sorry, I just- I just have a lot on my mind," you sighed, focusing once again on the task of making coffee.

"no worries. i was just wondering," The small laugh was anything but cheerful. You peeked back as he shrugged again and shuffled out. "it’s really none of my business."

* * *

The next day, and the day after, was rather uneventful.

A rinse and repeat go to work, come home, hang with Papyrus, and stay awake throughout the night in your room. The most varied of these was the time you spent with the taller skeleton. They mainly consisted of cooking together, watching him recalibrate or work on his puzzles, or sometimes accompanying him on his runs. Two or three times you crossed paths with Sans. He brought up the sleeping issue neither of those times.

Well, today was another day.

Darkened curtains hung damningly beneath the softened eyes staring back at you. Your hair only helped accentuate the pallor of the skin surrounding them. You brushed the frizzy strands aside and lifted a hand to your cheek, brushing against the skin, disturbing the symmetry.

Maybe it’s not a good idea to go to work like this, maybe it would be too obvious that your exhaustion could be credited to more than being forced to wake up at an ungodly hour.

Maybe.

The nightmares, you could feel them swiping at your heels as you went about your day. During the night as you were laying flat on your back, counting the cracks on the ceiling, it clawed at your limbs, intent on dragging you into a fitful slumber. You awaited the imminent dawn and the moment you needed to get up and be a functional human being – aside from your coffee runs at two or three am. Why did time drag on only when you never wanted it to? Either way, you weren’t giving in easily.

What was this? The fourth day now? You’ve never really stayed awake past three consecutive days before, getting worn out and tired to the bone helped you along to sleep. When you had hauled yourself out of bed, you’d quickly realized why.

It’s hell.

You considered calling in sick, but you knew you wouldn’t.

You lifted the hairbrush to the place where the strands were sticking out from laying and looking up at the ceiling for too long, then slapped on some concealer.

When you’re done, you sighed and wandered downstairs to say ‘good morning’ to Papyrus and make yourself a big cup of coffee. It’s not enough, but it helped.

* * *

There was no work today, but there was a graduation party for one of your 'friends' from school. Mimi Santos wasn't really a friend, and the truth was very much the opposite. But your mother and Mimi's mother were chummy pals from high school before Mimi's mom married the CEO of a toy company. If Mimi's mother was anything like yours, that was reason enough to pity the poor girl and forgive the harassment from high school. For the most part.

While Mimi was your age, due to an accident her boyfriend got her into during her junior year, Mimi graduated a year later then everyone else in your age group.

While you were having a tough time thanks to caustic twit gang bangers like Shane, Mimi was fighting for her life one breath at a time in a white gown in a white room in a white building in the middle of the city. They had both endured hardships of a different sort, and that helped you look past your tumultuous interactions.

You checked your phone and saw a text from your mother. Opening it, you weren't surprised to see what it was about.

 **> Fr: Mother** : Are you going to the graduation party for Amelia's daughter?

Mimi wasn't even worth mentioning by name. You read too much into it and began the depressing cycle of psycho analyzing everything that came out of your mother. She didn't care if you went to Mimi's party; she cared if her daughter went to the party at Amelia's.

Opening up the keyboard on your phone, you began to type out your response, knowing your mother wouldn't reply unless you decided to fight her on it. You didn't want that fight.

 **> To: Mother** : I am going to Mimi's party with everyone.

Knowing there would be no other response, you clicked your phone off and dried off before dressing in something comfy. A lot of your things were still packed away so you pulled out as much as you could, chose a cute dress, ironed and dressed your hair.

Not feeling up to wearing the dress, you shot off a photo to Mai to ask for an opinion. Mai didn't waste words and was always blunt with her opinions, especially when it came to fashion and you or Hana. Sometimes it could be annoying when Mai wouldn't stop giving unsolicited advice, but she respected you whenever you told the red head, 'I'll wear whatever the hell I want.'

A minute later Mai shot down your hopes with a predictable answer. You pulled out another dress and once again Mai disagreed with the selection. Nothing was wrong with it, but it was overused for a party at Mimi's. You texted Mai back.

 **> To: MaiOnlyOne** : Do I have to wear a dress? ):

Mai's reply was quick.

 **> Fr: MaiOnlyOne** : Come over, I have something for you.  
**> Fr: MaiOnlyOne** : And bring your red heels

Deciding to do nothing else but make lunch for yourself, you dressed in a black pair of track pants and a worn sweatshirt. Nothing that would impress Mai but you could afford a little bit of comfort before being shoved into a dress.

You’re dead tired, though you didn’t quite feel sleep hovering over you.

You still headed for her house.

She greeted you on the front porch and pulled you into a hug. “About time. Hana was starting to think something happened.”

“What could’ve possibly happened?” you asked, immediately shoving a hand into your pocket and curling your fingers.

“Ask that to her, not me.” She walked inside, red hair swinging with each step. “I knew you were probably held up a little by traffic.”

You shrugged, stomping up the stairs so she would know she was being followed. “Sorry, I didn’t take the express route. I have to abide by mortal laws.”

Mai snorted. "What do you feel in the mood for? I know your usual style, but this is Mimi's gig we are crashing."

You followed Mai into her room and plopped down onto the awaiting bed next to Hana. “What’s up?”

She looked up from her DS, the cheery music on pause as she adjusted the rims of her glasses. It seemed as though she had her turn as Mai’s dress up doll, clad in a mauve plum dress with pink hair pinned into an elegant updo.

“Hey.” Hana smiled, “I’m so glad I don’t have to suffer alone anymore.”

You huffed but couldn’t keep the wide grin off your face. “Yes, I can see you’re in complete agony. Mai’s torture knows no bounds.”

Both sets of giggles couldn’t drown out the “Hey!” from inside the walk-in closet. The mischievous look never left Hana’s eyes as they died down, but her attention returned to the handheld device as she resumed her game. “But seriously, good luck.”

You sucked in a breath and turned to face Mai who was pulling out something that sparkled. It was gold, formless, Twiggy styled, reminding you of the 1960's when people thought the future would be better than the present with flying cars and personal robot maids. You almost expected her to pull out a pair of white go-go boots.

"Really, that's the best you could do?"

"You think anyone else is going to look like this? Try it on. It will go perfect with your gold chunky heels."

Rolling your eyes you complied, not bothering to leave while Mai turned back to her closet to pick out of her Twiggy knock off dresses. When she turned around you were zipping up the back but wasn't fast enough.

"What is that cut from, and what happened to your hand?"

You’d forgotten about those. As it turned out pushing rocks and carting around heavy balls had done wonders to stress out your muscles.

You almost stopped to consider your answer, sparing a brief look at the light purple dotting the length of your arm. You’re probably not being that obvious, your friends would realize since they knew you well after all, so getting flustered might just make things worse. Instead, you placed your hand on your hip and turned back to Mai again. "A stupid shelf of books for the bruises and a making spaghetti for the cut. It's nothing to worry about."

Mai was dressed in a rectangle shaped pea green dress with matching tights and heels. Disco ball earrings swung form her lobes when she shook her head.

"Really?" Hana asked, her voice skeptical.

You leveled a bored stare at your friends. "No, I was beaten by my abusive Brazilian lover and I don't want you to find out. Help me with my makeup."

"You're so clumsy.” Mai muttered, “Me and Hana should just move in with you-at least part time. Your mother would never know, she doesn't even check up on you, does she?"

You didn't say anything and in response and Mai didn't push you to explain where the bookshelf came from, since your grandmother didn't own any.

After another two to three hours of pampering and dressing up that was interrupted by youtube serving and tumblr blogging, you all took your obligatory selfies and rolled out for the upper east side where Mimi would be partying it hard. Mai's parents and Hana had put together a gift to give Mimi and you just wrote a check from your mother, forging her signature with practiced skill.

"Makes me sick giving her something so petty. She won't even enjoy it," Mai bitched as you walked on the perfectly manicured grass of the party girl's lawn. "I should just keep it and say nothing. It's not like she will miss it."

Hana sighed, being the bigger person and reaching over the answer the doorbell without remark. Shane curled his lip.

You raised a brow at the slouching man to your left. Shane was on his way out when you had pulled up to the house, and he stopped to say hello. He hardly looked pleased to have attended. "I'm surprised. She was a witch to you."

A shadow came into focus on the other side of the door through the centered glass paneling. You shot your friend a wily grin. "Kind of like how you were?"

Shane's face went white and he turned his gaze away quickly as Mimi answered the door personally. She was dressed in a cream embroidered strapless number that barely reached her knees. A chunky necklace with flashy stones caught the eyes and matched her earrings. With naturally dark features and olive skin it made her seem softer and more feminine then you remembered her.

Mimi looked nice.

"You came. Thanks for showing up," the dark haired girl greeted, opening the door wider. She smiled at the three of you and it was a softer sort of smile. You waved Shane goodbye who still refused to meet anyone’s eyes as he took his leave. You stepped over the threshold and waited as the door closed before saying anything.

Mimi surprised you though by moving into hug you. You felt yourself being squeezed before Mimi moved to do the same to Hana, either not knowing or not caring about how touching was a huge trust barrier for the girl. Unless Hana trusted you, she didn't like being held, hugged, or touched. Mai cautiously returned her hug when her time came. When Mimi stepped back she was still smiling.

"I'm really glad you came. Thanks."

Mai mumbled something under her breath as she nodded. Hana then remembered the bag in her hands and thrust it forward.

You turned over your card as well. "Congratulations on graduating. How's the party?"

Mimi waved you all in and you followed her through the house to the backyard where pastel streamers and tea tables were set up on an immaculately manicured lawn. It didn't take to notice the lack of youth on the lawn. There were plenty of parents and adults, many relatives and a few little kids running around, but the only teenagers/young adults were a couple making out under the gazebo and a shaggy haired boy on his DS. You didn't recognize any of them.

"It's still early," Hana offered with a shrug.

"According to the invitations it ends in an hour and a half," Mimi said. She deflated a bit, bending forward and clutching her opposite elbows. "But it's all good. Mom's friends can stay as long as they want. Some of my classmates and your friends were here earlier, too, but they had to bounce."

Mai shifted the weight from one leg to the other, biting her lip and looking around. "How about a tour then?"

When a smile, Mimi consented and took you on a tour of the oversized mansion that had more rooms than anyone knew what to do with. Somehow you ended up in the theater room watching the old reels from when Mimi was a tiny two year old and the camcorder was still hot stuff. Halfway into a reel the doorbell rang and Mimi got up to answer it. Feeling weird, you, Hana and Mai followed the party girl. You noticed how Mimi's face lit up just before pulling back the door. The way her face fell was the way glass falls. It was just another of her mother's friends she had to force a smile on for and direct to the back. When you three joined Mimi at the end of the staircase the dark haired girl looked like she was struggling to stay smiling.

"Ah, I guess it was a busy day for most people?" Mimi offered with a shrug of her shoulders.

All you could see were shards. Digging into your pockets you pulled out your keys and tugged on Mimi's arm. "Fine, then, but you're all dressed up and you deserve to show off to the rest of the world a little. We're kidnapping you."

“What?” Hana gasped.

"We are?" Mai hissed.

"Where?" Mimi asked at the same moment.

"I want burgers. There's a dive in the next neighborhood we can curl up at."

Without another word you led your small group out to your van and pulled up a map on your phone to take you to the nearest dive burger joint. By the time you reached the dive Mimi's eyes were good and dry. Hana and Mai took Mimi to a booth in the back and you ordered burgers, fries and milkshakes for all of them. You didn't expect Mimi to touch the fatty foods, but was pleasantly surprised to see the smaller girl inhale what was put in front of her.

"Thanks," Mimi hummed around a mouthful.

You waved it off. "It's all cheap food."

Mimi swallowed. "No, not for that, I mean, for that too, but….for the other thing. I didn't think it would be that bad. No one RSVPed but…teenagers never do, you know."

"Forget about it. Girl talk now, how's your love life looking?" Mai asked.

Mimi squeaked and turned red in the face. "What?"

You and Hana laughed.

* * *

“hey.” Something nudged you on the shoulder. “hey.”

Your body twitched from aches as your fuzzy brain snapped to attention. Where were you?

A scent reminiscent of heaven had filled the space around you, and your surroundings were at just about the right temperature.

You yawned, eyelids fluttering in their struggle to stay open. You must have dozed off, not quite falling into the realm of sleep and not totally aware of the world around you, but you didn't remember when. Honestly, who cared? Rest was rest. Even if was a twisted modicum of it.

Still, you’re a bit uncomfortable, your back and joints hurt.

Sitting up for so long…

_Wait, why were you sitting?_

Last you remembered, you had come back in the late hours of night from your outing and took to reading ahead… in your textbook for next semester. Oh god, don’t tell you it’s morning already.

Your eyes snapped open, and you leaned back with a start, back straight as the room came together to form some sense in your head. The kitchen. Someone snickered to your right. You turned and your gaze met the lazy eye lights observing you now, tracing over your probably renewed dark circles and slightly bloodshot eyes.

You didn't know how long Sans had been standing there. Your exhaustion was wreaking havoc on your spatial awareness.

"Yes?"

“squeezing in some reading, huh?” he asked, sockets half mast, completely unperturbed by the awful image you must make out to be.

“That’s one way to put it.” You had figured he would bring up your record comment from the other day, make a joke, subtly insinuate at your sleeping schedule or lack thereof. Something other than the reply that you got.

“i was going to let you sleep, but then you almost fell over,” he said, surprising you for the second time in under a minute.

You felt your shoulders fall and lift again in a defeated shrug. You leaned forward to scoop up the mug left out on the table in front of you like a man dying of thirst. It hadn’t been there before. You slumped forward in your seat, leaning your face above the rim of the cup. You took a tentative sip and closed your eyes to savor the taste. You drew back.

You could feel Sans’ stare, but you’re far more concerned with furrowing your brows at the sloshing dark liquid.

What the actual fuck.

If you weren’t absolutely convinced Sans had something against you, then you’d have proposed to him then and there because this wasn’t coffee.

It was the solution to world peace, _heaven in a cup_ , and holy fuck did it have a kick behind it.

A shudder racked your body. You forced your fingers out of their rigid posture and flexed them across the warm ceramic surface, jittery energy rejuvenating you as your eyes slid shut once more. Hot chocolate always did taste much better and lacked the caffeine crash as coffee. Truly this drink once again proved it was one of the best things the world had to offer.

Right. Sans.

“I wasn’t asleep,” you grumbled, not bothering to open your eyes as you stole another sip of hot chocolate.

Oh god, _yes_.

“just saying, it wouldn’t be great for my bro to wake up to his human friend catching some z’s on the floor.”

What was that? Was that- Was that _more_ guilt? Your feelings needed to stop compounding and to obey you for once. And to be less obvious. Sans was no longer watching your every move but the increasingly smug turn of his mouth let you know he saw it clear as day.

Whatever else he might’ve said was forgone. He proceeded to head for the hall, but not before veering to the left, to serve himself some of the long forgotten coffee you brewed as soon as you had come home.

“Won’t that be cold?” You asked before being able to stop yourself. Despite feeling energized, fog still lingered on your mind.

He scratched a finger against the edge of his cheekbone, “i don’t particularly care.”

“Hey, Sans,” you started again tentatively, stopping him halfway.

“uh?”

“Thanks. For the drink and stuff.” You quickly clarified, raising the half empty mug and shaking it slightly.

His eye lights dimmed and you spotted something flash quickly across his face like a bird past a window. It’s not concern, condescendence, or gratification. It’s something unidentifiable. It was only there for a moment, but it was there just the same.

“…don’t mention it kid.”

It's only after he left, you spending a moment or two staring after his back curiously before you shut the textbook, that you couldn’t help but think he looked as though he wanted to say something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp I think I’m gonna post whenever. Still aiming for Wednesdays but writing 10k a week is a little much. Now that that's out of the way, I'm glad people liked the puzzles?? Was honestly worried I was doing too much puzzle but I guess not. And there is a sketch of Hana right over at my [tumblr](https://myosctis.tumblr.com).
> 
> So. You guys have seen the tags. You know they're coming. I'm not saying they are in the next chapter, or the one after that, or even the one after that. There's no telling~ But! I'm curious how you guys think the underfell bros will enter the scene and how they will play into all of this.


	10. Hypnagogia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exercise.

The kitchen, you soon realized, was becoming the centralized hotspot of activity.

It was the place you spent the most time in aside from when you holed up in your room. Since the whole insomnia thing began you’ve been in here constantly for coffee or food. It was also pretty much the only time you saw Sans aside from passing him on the stairs.

You sipped what was left of your drink.

You’d been scraping up eggs, stir-fry and cereal for years, perfecting the art of quick and simple breakfasts. Accommodating Sans and Papyrus into that mix wasn’t difficult when you had experience with Hana. The two of you would whip up food bright and early. That habit seemed to be slowly carrying over to Papyrus, who you often saw awake at the crack of dawn. Sometimes at dinner you would help him along with a new recipe and have to dissuade him from adding random ingredients like vinegar, garlic, and oregano to everything. Or turning up the heat to an absurd degree. He’s still really only able to make spaghetti on his own, his friend hadn’t taught him anything else.

Rinsing out the mug out and drying off your hands, you looked away from the sink to the clock.

5 am.

Since you’re up you might as well make breakfast.

You combed the cupboards for ingredients to throw something together. Seasonings, cereal, a few boxes of macaroni, half a canister of peppermint tea. Maybe you should indulge in some of that instead of draining the increasingly limited supply of coffee. It didn’t work as well, and you doubted your ability to ask Sans for more hot chocolate, but it was something. Huh, you were down to one box of regular oatmeal, and the last of the dinosaur egg variety. You pulled them both down. Oatmeal cookies were alright once in a while.

Tugging open the fridge door, you pressed your lips together as you processed the sight of the nearly bare fridge. You weren’t counting the stacks of spaghetti attempts.

“Ugh,” you mumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose. Grocery shopping hadn't been a high priority lately. "...I would be alright with this outcome if I had enough money in the bank to care of myself, but now I have to worry about feeding myself and skeleton monsters from another world.”

You drew out the egg carton and other ingredients from the back of the fridge, kicking the door closed. You put on milk to boil on the stove, grabbing the clear flask. Tipping a dash of magic into the pot, you soon added the dinosaur oatmeal before setting your sights on the cookies. You’re mixing the butter and sugar into a large bowl when your phone buzzed in your pocket, sudden enough to startle you.

You answered without glancing at the caller id, putting the phone aside and setting it to speaker. “Hello?”

There’s a beat of silence as you picked the required number of eggs out of their carton, mixing them in one at a time. You’re on the third egg before remembering the phone was still on. The whisking slowed and you looked back at your phone. “ _Hello?_ I swear if this is some kind of prank call-”

“No… I… it’s just me.” The tone was oddly sterile. Empty. As if the person on the other side was unfocused and confused, unsure of themselves. “Hey, uh, this might sound like a weird question.”

You let out a long, slow breath before cracking open the last egg. Stirring in the vanilla, you watched it and the yolks quickly blend in and disappear in the tawny color of the creamy mixture. The annoyed nose twitch was gone, replaced by something mellow; concerned eyes and slackened shoulders. You already knew what to expect. “Shoot.”

“What day is it?”

You rattled off the current date and spent a minute staring at the wall as you let him soak it in. “Are you okay Sine?” you asked, voice quiet.

“Ha, not really no. How many times have I asked you this?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to keep track but it’s been about a year since you first popped that question.”

A sharp inhale of breath on the other end of the line was followed by a resigned sigh. You added the ingredients lining the countertop. Salt, flour, baking soda, magic, cinnamon. “What’s the last talk you recall having with me?”

“About the skeletons, I think? That was yesterday. Crazy, right?”

You blinked. “That was like five days ago.” The soft sound of cursing and rustling papers filtered through the speaker. After a thoughtful moment, you tore open a couple packets and dumped in the oats. A sweet scent began to permeate the kitchen. “Are you looking for your notebook?”

“Yeah.”

“You do that. Text me after you bring yourself up to speed?”

“Yeah, I’ll try. Gotta make sure there’s no more holes in my memory. Catch you later.”

The line cut out before you could respond, leaving you to cast a forlorn at the ‘call ended’ screen. You were worried, not angry, not disappointed; worried.

A month. That was the longest in a while that the question had gone unasked.

It was never a good sign.

It was almost a cycle. Sometimes you’d end up starting conversations you had already gone through and you’d have to gently remind him of that. Sometimes, such as now, there was a gap between his days and yours. Your time seemed to be marching forward, while his was constantly edging back. Stagnant.

He had his moments where the brief glimpses of vulnerability took center stage, when his voice seemed to reminiscent of a kid trapped in something too big for them to handle. Admittedly, you were curious about how Sine always seemed to cope with his unique problems and in record time to boot. By the end of the day he was usually back to being a dork and cracking jokes or sleeping it off. It brought you relief, to see the semblance of normality, but the fact that he would no longer remember hours, days, sometimes weeks even at the drop of a hat disconcerted you the most.

Sometimes it felt like you were constantly being thrown back to square one.

Covering it with ceramic wrap, you left the dough to chill and removed the oatmeal from the stove. Just in time too. The tall skeleton entered the room, dressed in shorts and a crop top.

“Morning, Papyrus,” you greeted, as you set down his breakfast on the table. You turned and pulled open a drawer, grabbing the pen and paper previously tossed inside.

“GOOD MORNING,” came the cheerful reply. You didn’t look at him directly. When you did so yesterday he questioned whether changing eye colors was normal for humans.

Breakfast was a quiet affair with short snippets of conversation as you slowly move from place to place in the kitchen, jotting down items onto the pad. Even Sans showed up at some point while your back was turned. You thought he’d gone back to sleep but apparently not. Though he still looked tired, his voice lacked the telltale layer of sleep.

“what’re you doing?” he asked. “taking stock of what’s in stock?”

You huffed and at the same time you noticed the twitch in Papyrus’ face.

”Yeah. And I’m wondering what happened to all the ketchup.” You gestured at the spot you normally stored them in the fridge. “There were like two bottles in here.”

“heh.”

The knowing glint in his eye sockets was still there every time your gazes met, but there was something less… alarming about it now and you had a feeling that there would be no action on his part. It was better to hear puns than endure the fact that he was most likely silently judging you. You found this to be equally relieving and unsettling; nothing ever really went your way without some sort of backlash, and the lack of negativity over the past week in general left you in a state of cautious suspicion. Oddly enough, there had been an overwhelming amount of positivity in the last week, and nothing bad had really happened to ruin it either.

Like, yeah you had a list of problems going on, but none of them were hitting that traumatic point. Your world was not on the verge of collapse, and it left a bad taste in your mouth. Surely you were due for some kind of earth shattering experience to further damage your sanity and wellbeing. Perhaps it would be the waiting that would do you in; waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything to go to hell in a hand basket.

Either way, you did not like this.

With a sigh, you tore off the slip of paper and tacked it onto the counter, fetching a snack bar for yourself. Then Papyrus clapped his hands, a bright smile on his face as his attention focused on you, "TIME FOR MY EARLY MORNING RUN! ARE YOU COMING WITH ME?"

And all was right in the world.

You didn’t mind jogging with Papyrus. It was rather a nice way to channel your stress and take a quiet moment for yourself. The problem was you always went in the evenings with him. Papyrus was kind enough to consistently keep an even pace with you, though from time to time you’d receive encouragement to improve your speed. His morning runs were an entirely different kind of beast. You’ve seen it once, tagging along as you wondered what he did while you weren’t there to make sure he was up to par with the expectations set upon himself. Suffice to say, you, a normal civilian, would never best the monster in a race. He could give a professional sprinter a run for their money.

Ha. Freaking puns. At this rate you’d sink to Sans and Sine’s level of humour.

Adding that to the fact that you knew he knew you wouldn’t say no, out of a desire maintain your image that everything was perfectly fine with you, and there was a clear picture to be seen here.

You were screwed.

“EXCELLENT! I WILL AWAIT YOU OUTSIDE!” Papyrus exclaimed after you nodded, throwing open the glass door and bounding out into the backyard. For some reason, he always used that side door.

A few minutes later Sans shuffled after him, hands in his hoodie pockets, leaving you to your own devices. You munched on the snack bar and grab a bottle of water before retreating to your room.

“Hopefully we aren't doing anything too major,” you mumbled, absently grabbing a random assortment of clothes. “It's too early for this...”

Once you entered the bathroom, you whipped off your clothes and threw on the new ones, nodding at the choice of clothing your brain picked out for you. A simple loose fitting t-shirt and a tight pair of black yoga pants with a blue ring around the band.

As you made your way outside to join Papyrus, you felt a small part of your soul wither and die.

There would be no getting out of this and try as you might you couldn't see any benefit to be gained here. If you came at this with everything you had, it would still not impress anyone and only burn through your energy reserve before you even started your shift today. Unlike Papyrus, you didn’t have an unlimited well of energy to draw from. You did not exercise outside of these jogging sessions, and a week ago the amount of said jogging had been cut in half thanks to your compounding exhaustion. While you significantly felt more energized this morning you doubted you would fare much better today. All you had working for you was stamina, and while that was a useful skill you certainly wouldn't be inclined to show it off.

The sun was cresting over the tree line, casting the world and your companions in a soft orange glow as you walked through the trees. Birds were singing, and the rustle of waking wildlife drifted through the green leaves. Summer was quickly creeping up on the remaining spring days. There were little yellow leaves descending from trees and flowers everywhere, some in full bloom, the early ones wilting already at the hint of suffocating heat that filled the air, though it’s nothing compared to what’s to come.

You breathed in a gulp of that fresh, sweet piney air. This forest felt so alive, more organic than a bustling city. The morning was a bit too bright though, or maybe you’ve been up for too long in the darkness every night, who knows.

“Hey Papyrus, uh–” you spoke up, “I’m going to the store after work. It probably will be a short trip but I need to get out of the house. Would you like to come with me? I know you haven't been out in a while besides training."

“REALLY?” Papyrus struggled to not seem too hopeful at the prospect of finally leaving the house. “BUT I THOUGHT US BEING MONSTERS WOULD CAUSE A PROBLEM FOR YOU IN PUBLIC.”

“Well it’d be a good time try out that glamour stuff I got. See if it actually works.”

His expression brightened. “IN THAT CASE I WOULD BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO ASSIST YOU ON THIS VENTURE!”

You smiled as you watched he fell into the process of hyping himself, spouting exclamations to you both and to himself. From where he had fallen into step behind his brother, Sans watched the talk but never pitched in. The stiff smile drawn tight at the edges of his mouth spoke volumes about what he was possibly thinking.

Before you know it, you wound up in a wide, empty field. The swaying grass stretched the length of a football field, melting away to a strip of stone beside a small, bubbling creek. Papyrus sprinted off, eager to get started, while you, always one to go with the flow, go at a steady jog. Thank goodness you got over feeling self conscious during your runs with a constant flow of heartening words from Papyrus.

The distance between you and the skeleton quickly lengthened as you rounded your first lap and something tapped on your shoulder. You glanced behind you to find Sans moving leisurely. Not quite a jog, but definitely faster than a normal walk.

Sans could manage more than a shuffle?

You tried not to gape outright, wondering if you entered the twilight zone. An expression of disdain was plastered on his face as you moved to make room for him and slowed to his pace.

"exercise." He said it like it's a dirty word, and you grinned in agreement.

You continued together after that, neither of you speaking in order to conserve energy, and you found yourself glad to have someone suffering alongside you.

“so, what’re you doing?” You turned to him but he’s still facing ahead, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. It seemed he didn’t need to look you in the eyes to pick up on the air of confusion. “with the shopping thing.”

“Oh, well,” You tilted your head, “I figured carrying a ton of groceries would finally be the moment I put out my back after all these years-”

“that’s not what I meant.” The tight smile slackened, almost to the point of a frown. “i mean bringing paps to a place full of humans kinda sounds like trouble waiting to happen.”

“Whoa there partner, it almost sounds like you’re not a fan of the human race,” Understandable, since they had sealed _his_ entire race underneath a damn mountain for generations. Your mouth twisted into a real frown. You’d harbor a little salt towards them over it too if you were in that position. “If you think that then I wouldn’t fault you for something that’s probably justified. Too be fair, I don’t have a lot of faith in humans either. They can be pretty awful at times.”

There’s a fraction of a second where he blinked up at you in surprise before he caught himself, brow bones furrowed. If you hadn’t been looking at him, hell, if you had blinked yourself you’d have missed it. “you don’t know if the armbands will even work.”

“If they don’t then they don’t. It would just prove you get what you pay for, and in this case that be nothing. I’m sure we could figure out something else.” You shrugged, and watched as Papyrus zipped past you both. “Your brother doesn’t seem like someone I’d keep cooped up in one place for too long. And I kind of don’t want to. He should at least have a chance to go out and do things. Besides, he’s made clear in his own way that he’d like to see more of this world in his own…subtle way.”

Satisfied, you eased back and observed. Sans opened his mouth and then registered that he couldn’t exactly fight you on that one. He clamped his mouth shut, and went back to concentrating on his speed walk(?), with a more contemplative expression than before as new silence sprung up between you and him. It wasn’t tense, anxious, or companionable. Not even awkward. It was just there, like a placeholder to fill the void.

Funny how that could sum up your relationship with Sans.

Your second lap in and Sans’ first, you almost had to laugh.

Poor Sans, lazy as hell, had begun to wheeze; whatever his game plan had been, you were given the distinct impression that he no longer cared for it. He slowed to a near crawl another quarter way in, hands on his knees and huffing, waving you on as you were abandoned.

You sped up to your normal pace.

On your fifth lap, you were faced with a decision; did you continue on with the more athletic brother or fall back to the tired one? You were sweaty and gross, your breathing labored as you trouped on. Papyrus lapped you again and unanimously it was decided you would stick to a slower pace where you rightfully belonged. Your muscles burned, and silently you begged Papyrus to lose his will so that you too could stop running.

You were slowing down to little more than a jog by lap seven, face burning and with a stitch in your side. You glanced at the fallen Sans at the side of the clearing and might have felt betrayed, if you had not been considering the same thing. You were waiting eagerly for it to be over, for a light to appear at the end of the tunnel, when Papyrus appeared out of nowhere, startling you.

"HELLO!" He even waved at you, red scarf flapping behind him. "NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN. FOR THE FIFTEENTH TIME."

He'd barely broken a sweat, his breath only just beginning to sound labored. You stared at Papyrus with disgust, unable to cope with such a cheerful disposition as he proceeded to pass you. You gave up then, not even bothering to finish the lap before taking your rightful place among the other dropout.

"That was a nightmare," you heaved, somehow finding the energy to crawl your way under the merciful shade of a nice tree. "Thank god it's over for today."

Sans was lying on his back in the grass, doing nothing more than grunt in acknowledgment as you joined him.

With nothing to do, you plucked a few blades of grass and twined them together, watching Papyrus complete more laps. The moment couldn’t last forever, the call to action of work beckoned. Rolling your shoulders, you brush the flecks of green off your pants and hauled yourself to your feet.

You called a farewell to Papyrus, receiving one in return. You made it only a few steps before glancing over your shoulder at Sans, “You can come too if you want. I never said you couldn’t.”

You took your leave, not expecting a reply.

In the house, the bowl was removed from the fridge and you set the oven to the proper settings. Once the dough was spaced evenly over the twin metal sheets, all that was left was to let them bake. You got ready for work while you waited.

You studied the plate of cooling oatmeal cookies, poking at it. It looked more or less fine. But then, wasn’t that how it always seemed? Food was always one of the most deceptive things about the world. It could seem delicious on the surface and make you cringe as you tried to keep in the urge to hurl. Kind of like life.

…What were you thinking? You hadn’t baked in a while and the first thing you did was whip a batch of damn cookies. But you didn’t think you made a misstep anywhere in the recipe. You were pretty sure you hadn’t mixed up the salt and sugar again.

Either way, it was too late to worry about that. There was no turning back now. You had to at least give it a shot. In one quick motion, you popped a bite into your mouth. To your relief, it tasted decent.

Papyrus and Sans wouldn’t meet their end by confectioneries if you left them out in the open.

You snatched a few up and jumped into your car, one in your mouth as you pulled out of the garage and went on your way.

Hours later, you’re sagging as you inched forward in traffic. All the energy from that hot chocolate had evaporated like a puddle on a scorching day. You hadn’t crashed per se, but being stripped of that brief moment of utter clarity in the world left you feeling more hollow than ever. You truly didn't know what you missed until it was gone.

Your neck couldn't hold up your head anymore. It simply refused. It’s like someone attached weights to your eyelids and dragged them down. You didn’t think you could keep them open for much longer. You’re forcing your eyes way too wide and you know you must look like a psycho to other drivers. You were utterly exhausted. You sighed and leaned against the back of the seat. Strange that it would be such an inviting pillow. It's even stranger that you could never seem to sleep when you wanted to, yet put you in any situation where you needed to be alert and you had to slap yourself to stay awake.

Sleep was playing with you.

Kind of like the green rabbit perched on the dashboard for the past five minutes. Stupid bunnies. Drinking gasoline from a bowl was for kids. It wiggled it’s antenna at you and thumped its small feet, as if sensing your thoughts. Good thing it took them to heart, passing the bowl along to a miniature version of itself.

That bunny stuck it’s head into the bowl, the eyes blinking at you individually over the rim from it’s antenna stalks. The bowl slid to the next rabbit who pecked at it with it’s beak, the appendage split down the middle and letting gasoline slip through. The bowl continued it’s journey down the line, each bunny growing more grotesque and twisted until finally the bowl came to rest at a pile of dust.

The green rabbit thumped again and leapt out the car window, the horrid mutant bunnies following it, leaving dust in their wake.

Heh, funny little guys they were.

The blare of a car horn snapped you to attention and you pulled up the few feet, half tempted to flip of the driver for breaking your train of thought. People these days. At least you’d be back in your home soon, then all you’d have to worry about was grocery shopping. You knew a perfect supercentre to begin. They could even pick up some clothes, besides the ones you scrapped together a few weeks ago.

Speaking of money though, you had to start looking into getting them fake IDs. You were still searching for a possible way to send them home, but clearly it wasn't going to be happening any time soon and you needed to start looking towards the future. Start thinking about helping them adapt better to your world. Just in case they might be actually be stuck there.

You looked out the window, drawing your fingers through your hair. It’s a nice day out, perfect weather for you to curl up on your couch and pop in a video game. It’s been weeks since you’ve had a chance to. Maybe you could introduce Papyrus to puzzle games, give him an extra activity to do during the day.

You stopped, registering what you had just seen.

“Fuck,” you said aloud, staring vacantly ahead.

You reached your hand up and took hold of your opposite arm, tightening your grip until the sensation distracted and held your frantic thoughts. It grounded you enough that you could muster a small shaky breath. Seconds ticked past and you burst into a fit of surprised laughter because the sky wasn’t supposed to be purple and you just recalled an interesting tidbit someone shared with you once.

Hallucinations were dreaming while awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They were actually supposed to go to the store the second half of this chapter. The little sequence at the end wasn't supposed to exist but was told about the hallucination thing a few days ago and thought it'd be interesting to tie in :/
> 
> You could say that the half written store half got shelved for next week. Heh, not exactly happy with this chapter but here it is.


	11. Veil by Glamour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is why you hate shopping. You always get more than what you came in to buy.

You spent a solid half hour collecting yourself on the side of the road. Logically you knew what this meant. With an almost clinical precision and detachment, you drew up information from the depths of your mind and flipped through it like a book.

“Hypnagogic hallucinations were one form of sleep hallucinations that occurred at the transition from wakefulness to sleep.” You blinked rapidly up at the blue sky as textbook spiel reeled off your tongue in a half way coherent mess. At least the world was starting to regain some semblance of normality. “Often a result of substance abuse, insomnia, anxiety, stress or other factors, the person experienced vivid sensory events that may be bizarre or disturbing and can cause confusion. Sleep hallucinations may not need treatment, as they often occur infrequently and do not affect sleep quality.”

You had a feeling the nightmares were trying to tell you something. Or maybe they finally got pissed with waiting for you to give in, slipping through the cracks of your mind to bleed into reality and twist your perception of the world.

God was nothing safe?

Once you felt you were sufficiently calmed, you drove the rest of the way home and pretended to ignore the implications. Pretended that you had no limit, that the low burn of shame deep in your stomach was little more than an annoying itch. That you should not have let yourself go this far. That you should have known better. That you should have recognized the signs. That your breath and fingers weren’t trembling as the blood pounded in your ears.

You pretended nothing happened.

The thought of _‘You’ve come too far to stop now,’_ was most likely just the self destructive ramblings of a sleep addled mind in no position to be making judgement calls, but it prompted you to square your shoulders and move forward. Always move forward.

You could do this.

Just a little bit longer.

Just a little bit longer…

The thought slowly melted into silence, a type you could feel filling you up like a balloon. The quiet softly brushed against your ears and spread across your entire body as you spent the moment decrypting the cracks and crannies above you. A slight chill was in the air but it didn't bother you.

Your body shifted from time to time, you could never help the need to fidget, but everything else was still. Time appeared to slow down and you were separated from the world. It was like seeing life through a fishbowl.

In a way, it felt frighteningly peaceful. A stark contrast the earlier portion of the day.

You laid still and just listened to the noise around you. You noticed the whoosh of air that trickled past your nose as your lungs inhaled and exhaled with life. If you paid close attention you could even hear blood streaming throughout your veins and the lub of your heart banging against your ribs. The sounds echoed throughout the entire room. It's amazing, nothing was ever truly silent.

You didn't feel tired.

Oh, you knew it was still there but it didn’t pull at you with as much vengeance, almost acting coy about it.

That’s how he found you, stretched across the couch with red rimmed eyes trained toward the ceiling until blue entered your line of sight. Sans stood over you with an unreadable expression. “you’re really serious about this.”

You paused for a heartbeat before rolling into a sitting position. Pushing off the cushions to your feet, you gave yourself a shake, as if it could dispel the whisper of stillness rumbling in your stomach and twisting your insides with unease. “Hello to you too Sans.”

A shout rang out throughout the house. The loud words were indistinct as they filtered through the floorboards but the ecstatic undertone it carried was hard to deny. The corners of your mouth lifted in a half hearted smile as you scratched at the base of your index finger. Sounded like Papyrus was good to go. You strolled into the kitchen, grabbing your list and the keys from its usual spot in the key dish before moving to the front door to slide on your flats.

“…you look exhausted, kid.”

“I look awesome.” At five in the afternoon you had ascended past the point of exhaustion. It's more of a catatonic state. “You are coming, aren’t you?”

You straightened and regarded Sans who lingered in the living room’s threshold. His eye lights wandered idly before he sighed, shoulders lifting in a shrug, “yep. gotta keep an eye on papyrus.”

“Your lack of faith wounds me so.”

Evidently that was the wrong thing to say. His gaze finally met yours again, accompanied by a look you were beginning to recognize as the one that preceded a torrent of jokes at your expense. Before he could get a single pun out, Papyrus appeared on the stairs landing. “I’M READY TO GO!”

Your eyes swiveled upward, your fingers clasping the keys tighter. “Great, then we can-” You choked, eyes widening. “Oh my god.”

If a skeleton could go pale you were certain Sans would fit the bill. “p-papyrus?”

“IT IS I BROTHER!” A voice that definitely belonged to none other than Papyrus boomed from the human and struck a discordant chord within you.

Oh god.

He looked like a normal human being, stripped of his skeleton characteristics. He was still the same Amazonian height, had the same long facial structure, and wore the same clothes from before, red scarf included, but it was like a whole new person stood in his place. A pair of his sunglasses were perched in the shock of dark, wavy hair atop his head, contrasting the amber eyes blinking down at you and Sans with striking clarity.

One hand on his shoulder, he flexed an arm and the material of the unassuming armband stretched around the muscles rippling under his skin. He wasn’t beefy, but he sported the build someone who was very fit. His complexion straddled the line between dark and bronzed, his same toothy grin blindingly bright. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, MAY APPEAR VASTLY DIFFERENT BUT I HAVE RETAINED MY UNPARALLELLED GOOD LUCKS AND CHARM! THOUGH THE MAGNIFICIENT BICEPS AND LUSCIOUS LOCKS ARE A GREAT ADDITION TO MY GLORIOUS BODY.”

Your outright gawking lessened into a somewhat toned down version of staring. Bringing your hands up for a bout of slow clapping, you had to agree with his sentiment.

He… kinda looked good? Not that he didn’t before but there was a very clear difference between this and his skeleton form. Wait, was that insensitive? You meant- Ugh, your thoughts were muddled enough but this sight shocked your system into awareness.

Never had you given much thought to what Papyrus would look like as a human. After all, why waste energy on seemingly pointless thoughts like that? But the more you stared at this pseudo stranger with your housemate’s voice, the more it seemed obvious that yes, it was undoubtedly him.

Damn. Going back to the Magick Den and paying Katherine anyway seemed tempting. The glamour really worked.

“The look completely fits you.” The fact your voice kept steady at all was a minor miracle. “I thought those armbands were a joke for a second there but good for you man.”

“THE ONLY JOKE HERE, IS HOW STRONG MY MUSCLES ARE.”

Your eyes slid to a stricken Sans who was still processing the sight, hands hanging listlessly by his side. He seemed to be recovering quickly though as you gestured for Papyrus to toss you the other armband.

Oho, this day just got a lot more interesting.

“Well, well, well,” you grinned as you placed a hand on your hip, sauntering over to Sans. His shrunken eye lights snapped to you, then to the band spinning loosely around your finger. “It’s your turn Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.”

Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his grin suddenly seemed that much more forced.

“COME ON SANS, IT ISN’T SO BAD. YOU’LL HARDLY EVEN NOTICE THE CHANGE!”

Sans looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. He wasn’t going to stop Papyrus from going, but he seemed dead set not on letting him leave without him.

Exhaling, he slipped on the armband and something else about him transformed at the same time.

Sans' image flickered like static on a television screen. The ivory of his bones acquired a luminescence, and his movements were fluid and sure. All at once, his bones appeared to take on a simulacrum of skin. You could still see them underneath the overlay that wavered like the shimmering air above a campfire. The color seeped into them. Everything that made him Sans winked out, leaving only a complete stranger in his place.

The foyer was deadly silent for a minute.

“well?”

“YOU LOOK FINE BROTHER. ALMOST AS GREAT AS I DO!”

“aw, thanks. you’re so cool, bro.”

They began a little back and forth and you gradually tuned them out. Honestly, you completely stopped minding anything else, too engrossed in the feat of magic that had just taken place.

You could hardly believe it. As you looked up and down his form, the same innocent curiosity of the unknown was there. It felt reminiscent of the first time you observed him across the kitchen table, yet something entirely new.

Sans was… still odd.

Before, when he donned his jacket and coupled with his suggested rounder features, you’d thought of him as a relatively stout monster. The girth wasn’t as prominent now, but the fluff of the hoodie sloppily hung over his frame still kept you guessing. Was he fat? Was he skinny? Was he really big boned like he’d been insisting this entire time? You honestly couldn’t tell.

Now, the same basic features as Papyrus were present, except he was still rounder in the face. So same hair, same complexion, same sharp nose but that’s where the similarities ended. He just looked like some average, random guy who utterly oozed the unassuming, broski vibe. But he also seemed highly disheveled and dead in the soul the way a former grad student now working at Target was.

“no, don’t think so. welp,” Sans turned his head and caught your eye. You flinched a little and almost dropped your keys, taking note that you’d been staring at him for the past few minutes. Probably both longer than and more intensely than was socially acceptable. He was still looking at you, his eye lights-er, regular brown _eyes_ flickering over your face now.

These moments were becoming way too commonplace in your life lately.

“what’s the judgement from miss human here?” Sans asked neutrally, scratching the back of his head with one hand and ruffling the unkempt mop of hair further.

The ever present grin of his was still plastered on his face. But with you standing so close and the new unconscious human body cues, it was all too easy for you to glance down and spot the clear tension in his stiffened shoulders. Stupid. This was not the time to sit and stare at him in silence, with your thoughts on display for him and the world to see.

 _Say something already_.

“What, me?”

_Anything but that, idiot._

“yeah?”

“Oh, I thought you wouldn’t want my opinion butting into the brotherly jam you guys got going on here.”

_Holy crap, just forget it._

He snorted, the tension in his shoulders loosening somewhat but his expression hardly changed. “humour me.”

Brows knitted, you gripped the keys tighter and scratched the underside of your hand. Maybe you could articulate your thoughts a bit better this time. “…It’s like I said for Papyrus. The look completely fits you, and I had meant it in the way of how I’ve come to view you and your personalities. That _is_ what Katherine said it would do when she gave me the glamours, but it’s one thing to hear how it would happen and another actually seeing it. So yeah, you both are good to go. I didn't mind either of you before but goddamn.”

Sans gave you a bit of a look, almost disbelieving of the words you were spouting but he didn’t argue it.

“SEE? YOU’VE BEEN DEEMED ACCEPTABLE. TO THE STORE! FINALLY I CAN ACHIEVE MY DREAM OF CRUISING DOWN A HIGHWAY!!” With that Papyrus leapt down the remainder of the stairs, stuck the landing, and sped outside. Your mouth twitched into a small smile as you trailed after him, Sans falling into step beside you.

You slid into your rightful spot on the driver’s side, noting that Papyrus claimed the other front seat, while Sans was fine with chilling in the back. Papyrus looked as though he’d rather be in your position, and you wouldn’t be opposed to tossing him the keys to take Behemoth for a spin.

A random thought popped in your head and you asked, “Do either of you know how to drive?”

“nope.”

Nevermind.

“I see.” Turning your head to look backwards as you backed out of the driveway, you frowned, “Was just wondering. We’re going to have to fix that. Guess I’ll have to rig up some driving lessons for you two.”

Beside you, Papyrus was practically brimming with excitement, eyes shining with ecstatic glee. “GASP!”

What the-

The sheer genuinity in the word alone was enough to make your shoulders tremble with a round of suppressed laughter.

What could go wrong?

The hour long drive was rather uneventful besides the slew of questions thrown your way at random moments. You answered them without hesitation, and they seemed fairly satisfied with the responses. Pulling into the parking lot, you exited the car and walked to the store’s entrance. You grabbed the handle of a cart and wheeled it through the sliding doors.

"Excuse me miss, may I see your Costco membership card?" An employee asked as your group entered the front of the building. You clicked open your purse and pulled out your basic membership card before watching him nod. "Alright, you guys can head in. We are huge deal on paper towels and pre-cooked chicken today!"

"Thanks."

"we didn't have buildings like this in the underground." Sans mumbled after a minute, eyeing a few people who passed you to leave the store. Papyrus’ height drew one or two pairs of eyes but so far so good.

“It's one of the larger stores that we have up here in this country, but it is meant to be this way. It's an open floor warehouse where you can buy things you need in bulk,” you commented as you started moving towards the food section. “Which let me tell you, by the way food is consumed in the house, we should consider buying everything in bulk.”

”what are we getting?” Sans asked, looking around the warehouse as if trying to grasp how big it was, but not truly seeing it. He still fell short of your height but seemed slightly taller than before. You weren’t certain if it was just you or the slouch of his shoulders.

“We need coffee, since you practically live off the stuff... Someone keeps eating all the sweets in the house so we need to refresh those.” You sent a glance at Sans and he turned his attention elsewhere. “Pretty much everything needs to be stocked up on.” You made your way down the aisle with the sauces and other dried and canned goods. "If there is anything you guys want, go ahead and pick it out. We do have a budget though, so please take that in consideration.”

Almost instantly Papyrus grabbed six family sized jars of paste sauce.

You shrugged your shoulders. "…I did say anything."

Leaning on the cart handle, you watched as the two continued to look at everything that was available to chose, Papyrus gushing over the variety of different foods as he started tossing several brands of spaghetti into the cart. Whenever Sans picked up an item, he always grabbed packages of the cheapest kind. Papyrus’ loud voice and excitement attracted some attention but no one gave them a look otherwise. It was kind of amazing. If you hadn’t known that they were skeleton monsters in actuality, you would’ve just as easily mistaken them as a pair of brothers going about their shopping like anyone else.

You pulled your phone out as it vibrated with a notification. A quick glance at the screen revealed it to be Sine. You rubbed at your eyes, blinking the blurriness out of them and quickly typed up a response.

 **> To: NewSerifInTown** : Nah, I’m actually at the store with Sans and Papyrus.  
**> To: NewSerifInTown** : You good?

 **> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : yep. found out exactly what i needed to

 **> To: NewSerifInTown** : cool.

 **> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : cool

Sine didn't elaborate any further, and you didn't press.

 **> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : ya know it just occurred to me you’re not very cool

 **> To: NewSerifInTown** : Rude

 **> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : how to be cool  
**> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : A) sunglasses emoji  
**> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : B)

 **> To: NewSerifInTown** : Is that a pun. In emoticon format?!  
**> To: NewSerifInTown** : You’re (x_x;) to me.

 **> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : am i not tickling your funny bone?

 **> To: NewSerifInTown** : Are you seriously making skeleton puns now?

 **> To: NewSerifInTown** : to patella the truth, i figured you’d gotten bonely without my jokes  
**> To: NewSerifInTown** : the cure to your skull-king has arrived

And he was back to relative normality.

"Is there anything you would like while we are here Sans?" you asked, not bothering to lift your eyes from the screen. "You guys are honestly throwing a bit of everything in here, but I also know that you are the one that devours all the baked sweets like they’re oxygen, so you might as well tell me something that you want."

You looked up to inspect his expression and was thoroughly amused as his face scrunched up. "did I now." His tone held the slight hint of offense as he continued scanning around the other shoppers in the crowded store.

“Yeah, you did. I know it wasn’t Papyrus who’s the culprit so you might as well give it up.”

No response.

Soon enough the cart was already half way full before you even got to the frozen section. You hadn't even passed through the produce or the grains – and you could already tell you were going to need more space. You pocketed your phone and flagged down Papyrus down the end of the aisle. Once he jogged over to you, you pointed over your shoulder back the way your group came from, "Can you go grab us another cart? I have a feeling by the time we’re done we are going to be well off."

"OF COURSE!" He grinned, before he started walking to the front of the store. The aisle was left with a few people.

“Hey.”

“heya.”

“No offense,” you said, “But this has been a pretty weird day for me.”

“try wearing one of these glamours ‘n then talk to me about weird.”

“Oh?” You peered at him from the side before deciding to ask. “What does it feel like?”

“ ’s like-” He struggled for the right words. “ ’s like I don’t feel different but at the same time i do.”

“What?”

“i dunno, it’s hard to describe.” It felt strange, seeing his very human looking eyes narrow after acclimating to the comparatively minimalistic tells of his bright eye lights. “i feel exactly the same as before, but it’s like there’s another layer of magic on top of my own. i only picked up on it cause it felt so foreign at first. like putting on magical spandex? but after a few minutes it was already much more similar to mine. i only notice now it if i actively concentrate on it.”

“Interesting,” you hummed thoughtfully. “What about your new body parts? How’s that working for you?”

“i don’t really have the whole package of flimsy human skin and eyes and stuff.” He huffed, hands in his pockets. “you may not see it but i still register everything as a monster.” Your mounting confusion must have been obvious, because he continued, “see, if i poked my arm it may look like i’m touching skin, but since I don’t really have ‘em i’m just poking at my bones. you’d have to touch me to truly get what i’m saying. it’s just a bit of a disconnect in my head, like feeling everything through my bones and seeing human skin at the same time.”

Huh. You took that moment to skim over your list but still something niggled at the back of your mind. Papyrus was happy enough with his new appearance but the look Sans had given you in the foyer stuck for some reason.

Papyrus wasn’t back yet.

You knew opportunity when you saw it.

“Sans?”

“hm?”

“I know you probably didn’t believe me but you’re…fine as a human. So, don’t worry about how you look.” You didn’t look at him but you could still tell he was evidently surprised at the sudden admission. “But in _other_ terms, your human face isn’t quite as endearing as your skeleton face in the cute department. Just saying.”

Instead of the scoff you expected, you hear a small sound that you have no idea how to interpret. You look away from the slip of paper and at Sans. He blinked up at you. His expression carriedbemusement beneath the almost imperceptible dusting of pastel blue upon his nose and ridges of his cheeks.

“ ‘kay,” he finally said after a brief pause.

You raised a brow. “Uh, are you okay?” It usually was never a good thing to see a human turn blue but you had no idea what that meant with skeletons.

You stayed quiet for a while, watching each other in the silence. Soon seconds turned into a minute, and just when you were about to say something, you watched him raise a hand and lower it to your forehead – poking it.

"you’re a strange human," he murmured, face easing back into his normal expression. Somehow his usual smile seemed somewhat more relaxed now. His hand lingered for a moment before he lowered it to his side and assumed an air of mellow gratification.

“cute, huh?” he said with a wink. “heh. i’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Over the throngs of people you could easily spot Papyrus returning. Quickly you started pushing the cart to continue on your journey. “Anyways, enough about all this – back to the main topic. I know that you have a sweet tooth so you might as well tell me what you’d like so you can stop raiding all the goods.”

Sans seemed to consider this with a deep and clearly pondering hum. “ 'm fine with anything, though i wouldn't mind some ketchup.”

”Ketchup?”

“yep.”

You frigging knew he had something to do with its disappearance from the fridge.

You had to add a couple bottles of mustard to balance out the amount of ketchup Sans ended up dumping into the second cart after he practically cleaned the shelf. It was sad, watching the specks of yellow sink beneath the sea of red. Giving the lone survivor, cushioned atop the rest of the produce stuck in the child seat, a reassuring little pat on the cap at the thought, you turned your attention back to picking out vegetables to put in the cart.

Thank god you were almost done.

With groceries almost out of the way, Papyrus and Sans had wandered off with the other cart to pick something that peaked their interests. You didn’t mind, content with wrapping up the last of the needed items yourself.

"That should be everything. And more." you sighed, checking over the items in your cart. Your checklist had been met… with a generous surplus of extra purchases. “This is why I hate shopping. You always get more than what you came in to buy.”

"There you are!" a high, songbird voice trilled.

You staggered, air leaving your lungs in a wheeze as something like horse hooves slammed into your back. The cart handle dug into your stomach and arms locked around your sides with the strength of a body builder. You stiffly peered over your shoulder.

“Where are the others?” you asked.

Mai released you from the hug and stood behind you with an enigmatic grin, “On Stand-Bi” emblazoned across her chest. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You _know_. Wherever there’s one there’s more.”

She laughed, pushing some strands of her hair out of her face. “Jared and I ran into Hana and Austin on the road, so we decided to tag along. They’re here somewhere. So. What’s this?” She gestured at the full cart with a cheeky smile. “You having a party? Kind of mean you didn’t invite your best friends yet.”

You shifted uneasily. “No, I’m helping out some… new friends with their shopping.”

“Ooh, guy or girl?” Mai wanted to know.

“Guys?” Your brows furrowed. “What does that have to do with-“

“Some guys huh? Are they cute?”

“I guess? I didn’t really think much about it…”

Despite the fact, you had literally said that to Sans’ face not even half an hour ago.

The delayed wave of embarrassment washed over you. God only knew why you had thought that was a good idea in the moment. The two of you weren’t friends or anything. You weren’t obligated to try to cheer him up, to scrub the image of his discomfort from your mindscape.

Mai seemed disappointed then perked back up as you trailed off, your gaze shifting from her to beyond her shoulder. Papyrus’ arms were loaded with clothing of their choices as he conversed with Sans, who was leisurely pushing the cart and grinning up at his brother. She turned, following your line of sight until her green eyes landed on the two and just _sparkled_.

“He’s so cute.”

You looked at Mai. Her cheeks were glowing an indecent pink. “Who?”

She tore her eyes away from them. “The tall one!”

The brothers came to a stop beside you before you could formulate a response to that. Sans regarded Mai with little more than indifference. Papyrus was being his friendly self and you thought his eyes sparkled a little. In the literal sense. Mai looked far more giddy than you were comfortable with being near. You rubbed your temples with one hand, as though it could ease the oncoming headache. The other waved over Sans and Papyrus. “Mai, these are the two I was talking about. Papyrus and Sans.”

“hey.”

“HELLO, NEW HUMAN!” Papyrus suddenly jerked a gloved hand forward, somehow balancing the mountain of clothing. “I AM INDEED THE GREAT PAPYRUS.”

Mai was all too happy to accept the handshake. “Nice to meet you both! I’m Mai Sasaki, one of this lovely girl’s besties.”

The second Papyrus turned to deposit some of the clothes in the cart she threw an arm over your shoulder and pulled you in for a huddle, leaning in conspiratorially.

“Human? Is he one of those larpers?”

“Uh- Yeah. Larps a lot. His persona is a skeleton overlord. 11/10 in charisma. His brother not so much, but don’t be surprised if he might throw out some skeleton puns.”

Narrowing her eyes, she fanned herself. “Oh wow. You’ve been holding back on me, haven’t you?”

“You’re too thirsty _and_ you have a boyfriend.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate some eye candy.”

No. You just couldn’t. Not when she waggled her brows like that at you. And over _Papyrus_ at that. She cackled loudly at your scandalised face. Behind her, you could see Sans raising his brows at you. Somehow, although it was done in confusion, that made everything even worse.

You moved to push her off you but she remained steadfast, desperately trying to quell her giggles behind her hand. “No no no no. Wait. Okay- I don’t know how you do it though. I thought Ian was the only one who talked really weird.”

You shot her a look.

“Oh gosh, you didn’t notice?” She laughed but you couldn’t figure out what was so funny. “I mean, the short one…” She looked around to make sure no one was listening in before. “He speaks in _Comic Sans._ ”

What.

“I- Comic Sans? As in the goddamn font?” you pressed.

“Yeah, though I’ve never heard someone speak in Papyrus before. Kinda coincidental they have names based on fonts.”

Your mind had probably made the connection beforehand. Possibly even the moment you’d read it off from the tome or between one of his many comedian antics. It wasn’t difficult to put together that they’d been named after fonts once one really sat down and thought about it, but you never bothered confirming it because who’s _named after a font_  of all things. However, you’d forgotten that little throwaway line Mai had made so long ago about Ian apparently speaking in a font (fucking comic sans at that) and now the skeleton monsters had been doing it this whole time as well too.

You – what the hell.

The call of your name snapped you back to awareness, shaking you out of your thoughts. “I didn’t realize. Thanks for telling me.”

“No problem.”

You cast a glance at the brothers, then at the carts. “I think it’s time for us to check out though. Any longer and everything will melt before we leave the store.”

“Just a heads up. I think Hana’s thinking of paying you a visit.” A flicker of worry flashed across her eyes. “I don’t think she’s used to not being around you 24/7 anymore.”

The smile you wore fell, “I’ll be sure to invite her over first. Say hi to everybody for me, okay?”

She nodded, straightening with an exhale. An elbow nudged you in the side and her wolfish grin returned full force, “Be sure to let me know if you met any more hot people!”

_“Later, Mai.”_

With a backwards wave, the redhead disappeared into the crowd.

“what was that about?”

“Hurricane Mai.”

With that incident behind you, having the cart items scanned and paid for seemed like a breath of fresh air.

“There goes some of my savings,” you muttered, accepting a signed receipt from the cashier before your group started wheeling the carts out of the check out line and towards the parking lot. “I‘m going to have to take more shifts to cover all of this. Or sign up for one of those shows with those hardcore couponing ladies who live and breath deals."

You showed the receipt to the front employee. They quickly signed it and you were on your way to the van. Just as you popped open the trunk your pocket buzzed. Shaking your head, you checked your phone. Fingers tapped out a reply as the other hand filed bulging plastic bags into the trunk alongside Papyrus.

 **> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : i found it humerus  
> Fr: NewSerifInTown: i'm just asking if you want them to be rib-tickling, or just hip?  
**> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : cause I’ve got a ton. a skele-ton

 **> To: NewSerifInTown** : That was just trying too hard tibia a good pun  
**> To: NewSerifInTown** : Quit pulling my leg.

 **> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : hey, i don't want to stirrup any trouble  
**> Fr: NewSerifInTown** : but you know I’ve got a femur in store ;)

“Hey, Sans,” you started. He tilted his head in acknowledgement. Not like he’d been really doing anything but standing there. “As, well, you know, you have a lot of skeleton puns right?”

Papyrus froze and stared at you with a look of utter betrayal on his face.

“skeletons have a tendoncy of stacking some up.” Sans snickered, facing you a wide, but still rather lazy grin. “what’s with the sudden interest? you got a bone to pick with me or something?”

Terrible puns all around.

“Not with you. I have a friend who won’t stop messaging me them. I’d retaliate but their punning ability far surpasses mine.”

“oho. really?” Sans leaned forward on the cart handle, a challenging gleam in his eye. “how soon did you kneed the puns?”

“Right now, since me and Papyrus are doing the work.” You handed off your phone, opened to the chat, and immediately his eyes skimmed over the previous messages. His grin widened gradually the more he scrolled through the puns left by Sine.

…Was it truly a wise move to get _Sans_ of all people involved in a pun spat?

“How do you use touch screens?” You blurted out, squeezing in the last bag. Papyrus had already wheeled one cart into the cart return, and was in middle of doing the same with the other one, eager to keep some distance between Sans’ occasional puns.

His fingers were still tapping up a storm on the screen in response to something Sine said, “curious, aren’tcha. i could explain but you don’t have a degree in theoretical applications of magic.”

“Do you?”

He met your eyes, holding your gaze. “nah,” he said with a shit-eating grin, dissolving into a short fit of laughter at the most deadpan expression you’ve ever felt taking form on your face.

For just one moment, you felt Papyrus on a spiritual level.

After a moment he had calmed down enough to answer, “like I told ya before, monsters are made outta magic.” He shrugged. “so th’ answer’s maaagic.”

You had a feeling if his hands were free, a dumb finger waggle would accompany the words. “It’d be magic if my phone doesn’t explode from how fast you’re replying to my friend.”

He shook the phone in front of him. “what can i say? ‘s been a while since someone hasn’t blown off my puns.”

"Put more effort into them and maybe I'll laugh one day."

You spent the drive home imparting your basic knowledge of car mechanics unto Papyrus and pretend not to notice Sans’ considering glances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I post on the day I am meant to (still wed. here). I hope how Sans and Papyrus look works for most of you because they are here to stay for the foreseeable future. I've been thinking about the designs for human forms for a long time and originally they were going to have white hair because I love that but alas. You still get a beautiful Papyrus and dead on the inside, somewhat ambiguous Sans (no blue eyed sex god Sanses here sorry).
> 
> It's been mostly been Papyrus bonding up until now but that's. About. To change. Prepare yourselves. Sans/Reader friendship is coming. Maybe (if they can get over themselves). Or maybe I should have everything go to hell right now. Whichever comes first.


	12. Closed Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "how much coffee do you drink?"
> 
> "Oh, not much," you said, taking a sip of coffee. Your hands were shaking. You hadn't slept in six days. You could hear colors. “Everything’s fine with me.”

"if your head droops any more you’re gonna become one with the floor."

You winced as you opened your eyes, attempting to ignore the encroaching headache and nausea that threatened to ruin your day. First you were bright eyed and ready to face the world, then you saw…things, then your exhaustion laid low in the store before retaliating with the force of a speeding truck a couple hours after you returned to your house. This insomnia was being fickle today.

The blinding light that filled the kitchen and the assault on your senses that was the mixed smell of burning and pasta didn't really help what you were feeling.

Papyrus decided to commemorate the day in honor of the successful excursion, declaring that it would be celebrated weekly and that it should henceforth be known as Spaghetti Tuesday.

It was Wednesday.

It was also how you found yourself making macaroni casserole while fussing over Papyrus as he took to crafting a pot of spaghetti at the same time. Each time you tried to help he shooed you back into your share of the kitchen workspace. You’d set aside the casserole to cool and promptly gotten caught attempting to remove the box that had been thrown in the pot with the noodles. The only thing you remained staunch on was not allowing him to crank the stove past it’s limits. You didn’t care how “slow” normal heat made cooking in comparison, you weren’t letting the symbolization of his passion burn your house down.

Sans found it more than amusing, if his expression was anything to go by. He had his elbows up on the table, his chin resting on his hand as he watched your weak attempts at trying to do  _something._ The other still held your phone that occasionally buzzed with a new message.

“What’s that look for?” you asked, finally giving up and slumping into a seat at the table. You had set warm mugs of tea in front of you both, as well as sugar and honey, and he tore open a few packets of sweetener to dump into his cup.

“nothing,” You made a face at the amount of sugar he was adding to his drink, but chose not to mention it, “i admire your _valiant_ efforts to help out paps, s’all.”

You raised your eyebrows as you pulled your own mug towards you and took a sip of your drink, not buying Sans’ excuse. He didn’t elaborate any further, though, and before you could push for more, Papyrus deposited your plates of spaghetti.

“I REALIZE I HAVE YET TO PROPERLY GIVE YOU ANY OF MY SPECIAL PASTA! AND IF I KNOW ONE THING ABOUT HUMANS, IT'S THAT THEY ALWAYS SLEEP BETTER ON A FULL STOMACH. PLEASE ENJOY THIS FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI!”

Your head felt a little achy and you forced yourself to keep your head down as you straightened in your seat, your frizzy hair a glitter speckled curtain shielding your face. You studied the plate. The spaghetti was…something else. The pasta itself looked more or less like you would expect spaghetti to look, but equal parts burnt, undercooked and relatively normal? Marinara sauce and cheese lathered the charred meatballs. Blackened, hard noodles stuck out of the heap at odd, random angles. You think you spotted a piece of the cardboard carton in there.

You picked up your fork and pushed at the most normal looking part of the pasta. It oozed between the tines with a jelly-like consistency. “Thank you Papyrus.”

“yep,” Sans said. His expression hadn’t changed but he poked at his own plate with no small amount of trepidation. “looks great bro.”

"OF COURSE! YOU CAN EXPECT NOTHING LESS FROM THE EQUALLY GREAT PAPYRUS!"

With the sleeves of his crop top rolled up and his white apron smoothed across his front, Papyrus looked the picture of excitement to see you finally try his spaghetti. Until he caught sight of the new shirt Sans had changed into, wincing at the words on his chest. ‘You’re Grate!’ was printed sideways on a picture of a comically smiling cheese grater.

“DID WE ALWAYS HAVE THAT? WHY HAVE WE THROWN IT OUT YET?”

Sans rolled his eye lights, brushing off the slight wrinkles on the garb. “aw, c’mon. i don’t think it’s that bad. in fact, i think it’s...”

“SANS, DON’T-”

“pretty grate.”

“I DON’T WANT TO COOK ANYMORE.”

“ha, yes, you do.” Sans laughed at Papyrus’ flat tone, patting his brother’s arm fondly. “go grab the milk outta the fridge.”

Papyrus sighed, already moving as instructed, “FINE, BUT NO MORE PUNS.”

“i didn’t know you were in such a bad mood. i’ll try to be more cow-ful.”

Papyrus’ scowl bordered on disgusted and annoyed, halfway frozen while reaching into the fridge. “THAT WAS AWFUL.” His tone was almost more offended than anything, causing Sans to snort. He always laughed harder at Papyrus’ sour expressions.

Papyrus remained still where he was halfway crouched, holding the posture longer than needed if only just to get his disappointment in Sans’ puns through to him. Sans didn’t bother with the stretched out scold, turning back to his plate. Once Sans turned his attention away, Papyrus slipped from his mocking posture with the milk in hand. He reached the table, placing the carton down beside Sans, and turned to you.

You steeled yourself, twirling a few strands of saucy noodles around the fork and spearing a less charred meatball. Moment of truth. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Before you could talk yourself out of it you stuck the bite into your mouth in one quick motion.

Oh. My god.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and you squeezed them shut, slowly feeling them cross underneath your eyelids as you spent a few seconds trying very hard to not retch.

It was difficult to scrounge up the courage to keep going. The burnt meat grated against your teeth and noodles seemed to be imbued with things truly of a questionable nature. The only saving grace was the marinara sauce. It was slightly tinged with an spicy sweetness that clashed and didn’t sit right with you. There was so many things that didn’t sit right about this pasta. But even the sauce couldn’t help much besides slightly numbing the unspeakable taste.

“SO, HOW IS IT?!”

You pried open your eyes after a pause. Papyrus looked on at you expectantly. Sans looked as if he’d suspected you were about to keel over any second, his own plate untouched before him. At this rate, you yourself were beginning to wonder if you were dying.

“The taste is indescribable,” you said through clenched teeth, but speaking only jostled the food in your mouth and world seemed to tilt on its axis. You pressed a hand to your chest to steady yourself as nausea roiled in your stomach. You struggled to swallow, the food sliding down your throat sickeningly. “Hrk!” You weakly coughed and gave Papyrus a shaky thumbs up with what you hoped came off as an encouraging smile. 

You inhaled a sharp breath through your nose and stabbed forcefully at another fork-full of pasta; the spaghetti seemed unappealing as ever and it took a certain level of control to fight back your gag reflex. 

“Nothing I’ve had before even comes close,” you continued around a mouthful of crunchy pasta. No, your voice didn’t break at the end. You swear it was the burnt outer casting of the meatball. “There’s some room for improvement, but I can help you out with that. Overall, good job.”

Somehow the taste got worse the more you chewed, but you persevered. You refused to admit defeat to a couple of noodles.

"WONDERFUL!" He beamed, eyes sparkling as he turned back to the stove; apparently placated by your disingenuous smile and tentative bites of food.

Sans wasn't buying it.

From then on the room went quiet for the most part – aside from a few comments from the brothers. You thanked them for keeping the silence for the most part – thus allowing you to weather your ordeal, alternating between bites of pasta with gulps of tea. You were grateful that your stomach seemed more willing to hold onto the food the more of it you forced down.

“Hey Papyrus,” you said, half way through the spaghetti. “Shouldn’t you take off the glamour now?”

Sans had ditched his glamour the moment he entered the house hours ago and seemed much more at ease with himself, yet Papyrus had been strolling up and down the place in his the entire time. Not that you had problem with how they chose to present themselves but you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to wear it so long on the first use.

Papyrus blinked, slightly taken aback by the sudden question. He rubbed his chin and mulled it over himself. “I SUPPOSE YOU’RE RIGHT.”

He loosened the armband from it’s spot on his upper arm. His appearance flickered, like a trick of the light, and then there was the much more familiar skeletal face. Your hand clutching the fork jerked, clattering against the plate. You’d seen the switch twice now but it still jarred you.

Papyrus pushed away from the table with a loud scrape of his chair. “I’LL BE RIGHT BACK.”

"What?" you said after Papyrus had disappeared upstairs.

“you know,” Sans started off, taking a swig of his tea. The skeleton had already downed his pasta with relative ease in comparison to your herculean effort. Or at least you think so. You hadn’t seen him eat but you did witness his aftershocks of spaghetti consumption. If this was what he had to try on a regular basis you understand much better now why he had treated your pasta with so much skepticism the first time. “i’ve seen many things in my life, but you’re an impressive one. i’ll give you that.”

“What do you mean?”

“the food. you keep eating the food.”

You licked your lips (and immediately regretted it, because you tasted the goddamned last bite you just had and it was fucking vomit inducing and you didn’t know how you had even managed to down past bites before) and gave an awkward smile – or at least that's what you thought your face was doing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“you don't have to keep eating it.” He cocked his head to the side. “it's godawful. and paps was happy you ate some at all. he must be over the moon by now.”

Just to prove a point, you took another bite and forced it down.

“starting to wonder if you’re a glutton for punishment, kid.” He said it like it was just an observation, like he was genuinely curious.

“Maybe I am. But if I want it, it's not a punishment, is it?” you snarked back automatically before you could stop yourself, unsure whether that was serious or some kind of pun about your food suffering. It was probably both.

Sans stared at you over the rim of his mug, confused.

Oh.

You stared back, face carefully blank and damn it that could be completely misconstrued and you sincerely hoped he wouldn’t register-

But your prayers fell on deaf ears. His eyes abruptly widened and his fingers twitched, bone scraping against ceramic loudly in the silence. Slowly he lowered his mug. “uh. wow, okay.” he said, with a straight look that almost bordered on sociopathic. “duly noted.”

How many times would you put your foot in your mouth for one day? “Please don’t. It was a joke.”

“oh, but i _maso_ -sist.”

You internally screamed. “That was a stretch and you know it.”

“hey, no pain no gain amirite?”

“No.” Ignoring the slight prickle of heat in your face, you sighed deeply. “Listen man, I’m not a masochist or a glutton for punishment. Christ what did I do against you to deserve this?”

“nothing.” He shrugged. “i don’t hold grudges and ’m not that much of a sadist. pun-ishing others for what they say just happens to be right up my alley.”

“You have far more of these puns than I am comfortable with knowing and you’re clearly not going to let this go.”

“i don’t know what you’re worried about,” he hummed with a widening devious grin and an exaggerated wink. “you say that like i’m going to start hitting on you.”

You slapped a palm against your forehead, hoping your groan didn’t carry the undercurrent of the laugh that wanted to be set free. It was time to wallow in the pit of misery because damn it these horrifying semi-flirty puns were terrible.

“SANS, WHY DOES SHE LOOK LIKE THAT?” Ah, Papyrus. Your bastion of sanity. You hadn’t noticed when he had come back.

Sans, the greasy little bastard, chuckled, “beats me.”

“Okay yeah. That’s it. I’m done.” You started clearing your area of the table and dumped the dishes into the dishwasher. “I’m going to bed.”

“ALREADY?” Papyrus furrowed his brows. “YOU BEEN TIRING REALLY EASILY LATELY. BEFORE YOU KNOW IT, YOU’RE GOING TO START NAPPING YOURSELF INTO AN EARLY GRAVE LIKE SANS!!”

“going in my sleep? wouldn’t dream of it.”

“SANS!”

The casserole was half eaten. You’d serve yourself some, eat an actual proper dinner, but your stomach gurgled in protest. Slowly, you wrapped it up. At least someone had enjoyed it tonight, and you could always eat some tomorrow. “Papyrus... Sometimes I wonder if you know how to sleep.” You paused. “Wait. When do _you_ sleep?”

“I'M USUALLY TOO BUSY TO SLEEP. WHY?”

“…No reason.”

* * *

You came back to the world of awareness later than you intended, and had to rush through your early morning routines before heading off to work. When you arrived back home at the end of the day, it felt like the first time in days that you had an actual moment of rest. Collapsing onto the couch, you let your sore legs lay flat.

There was a light flashing from the answering machine but you ignored it. You could answer it later. If it was important they would have called your cell, and the only people that called you all day were Mimi, Hana and Papyrus.

Mimi…you would have thought yourself crazy for believing that the pair of you would be on friendly terms once out of high school. It was one thing to turn your worst enemy into your best friend once in your life, but you doubted such miracles struck twice in one lifetime. After the initial run with Shane, no other had tormented your friends more throughout the adolescent years.

You checked your recent texts to make sure and saw ‘Mimi’ typed into your contact list with three dozen texts back and forth from earlier. It wasn't a dream. Mimi really had changed.

When your phone buzzed you answered it without looking, your voice clipped and short. "Yes?"

Your name filtered through the speaker.

"Mom!" You mentally froze, feeling your gut clench and your insides tighten with the shame only your mother could make you feel. "You called."

There was a moment of pause before your mother breathed an exasperated breath on the other end of the line and clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth. "Really, you must improve upon that harsh personality of yours. This is the second time I've tried calling you. You never got back to me about how Mimi's graduation celebration went. Was she pleased?"

"It went well. We ended up going out to eat afterwards and spent the whole time together. She said she would invite us back for a pool party later this week. Why?"

Your mother made a happy sound into the receiver and you heard other sounds that likely meant she was engaged in an activity aside from phone conversation. You had seen your mother do something similar in the past. Was she rearranging flowers or picking up old photo frames from their down turned positions? Was she stacking cups or setting keys on hooks where they belonged?

"That's perfect. I forgot to tell you that you could invite Mimi over to stay if you wanted to. It's drab, but it's removed from the city and she might like it. You two should get to know each other better."

"Ah," you said, glancing out the window when an idea struck you. "I would love to, but I think Mimi wanted to hang out with the four of us somewhere; Hana, Mai, me, and her, you know? Or at least… someone else. If I invited Mimi to stay over it wouldn't be as appealing if my other friends were left out."

"You can do that," the older woman snapped. "Don't make excuses. Invite Mimi over and spend some time with that poor girl. Heaven knows she's been through enough hardship. She deserves some positive attention."

"I know."

She sighed. "Fine, that's all I wanted to say. I'm glad to hear you're doing well. We'll talk again." With a heavy click the line went dead.

Only distantly aware of your scowl, you pulled the phone away from your ear and stared at the timer that flashed across the screen. One minute and twenty nine seconds was the entire duration of the phone call from pick up. Your mother couldn't even spend two minutes on you.

It was hours later by the time your anger abated, and by then it was only because you had learned to live in your anger and wear it like a secret thing beneath your skin. You were more than one woman's daughter. You had a goal and a dream. You were going to school and soon, in a few years, you would be free from such childish feelings.

_Keep lying to yourself if it makes things easier._

Slamming the cover down on your text book, you kicked it across the room till it slid against the wall with your book bag and waste basket.

* * *

Above you the clouds drifted without sound.

You rolled over onto your side and slid your arm behind your head to lie on. The grass grew tall around you, hiding you in between its blades. Your jeans were dirty and your plaid button front was faded along the edges and frayed at the ends above your waist line.  Your hair was loose too. You wondered if your face looked as worn out and tired as the rest of you. You didn't feel like checking.

“Damn it,” you groaned to yourself. “I came here to get away from how that woman makes me feel. Why do I still feel so crappy?”

The anger you wore under your skin weighed you down. These things clung to you like possessed spirits. Regret, anger, distress, anxiety…

You cracked open an eye as sunlight was blotted out, peering upwards at the figure who stood in front of the sun.

“Sans, you're far from home,” you drawled, not minding how heavy your voice sounded, almost like you had been screaming or crying for too long. A headache pounded away at your skull, but that was normal after getting so worked up over your mother. You had really let those numbers on your phone get to you more than usual. “I wonder for whatever reason that could’ve come about.”

“just curious where our landlady wandered off to in such a fit.”

“Pay me and then we’ll talk landlady business.” You turned away on to your opposite side and felt the dirt catch behind your fingernails as you dug into the earth, desperate for a hold of something. “If you’re going to hang around me then don't try singing…or screaming…or doing anything loud. I don't think my brain can take it right now."

You heard the grass shift as he plopped down a respectable distance from you. A minute later you heard his chuckle. When you didn't ask he spoke aloud anyway. "that cloud looks like a farting dog."

You snorted. "How elegant."

"nah, it's true. it's in that like, not sitting not standing, oh darn. it's gone now, never mind."

You opened one eye and looked towards the far end of the grass field where the hills dropped off into sky. None of the clouds seemed like anything other than clouds to you, but you had never been good at seeing things in the sky after childhood.

Deciding you’d had enough of lying around, you stood and stretched your legs out, the movement kicking little bits of grass into the air between them. Brushing the dirt from your knees, you turned and briskly crossed the field. You half hoped Sans would take a hint and go back. For him to just leave you alone to your anger and go do whatever he did when he disappeared for hours on end. Instead, he just stood and followed you.

The pair of you trekked in silence through the rolling woodlands, the canopy of leaves and undergrowth gradually lessening. You knew there was a lot of land out here and visited your grandmother many times as a child to explore it but even you were silently taken aback at how it kept stretching on no matter how far you kept walking.

“not that I’m complaining but, uh, where ya going?” Sans piped up after you had traveled a good half hour from the house.

You hummed thoughtfully and seesawed your hand. "There’s something I want to see." Honestly, you were surprised he was still here. He’d never intentionally sought you out aside from the occasional question or that one time he threatened you. Surely there was some ulterior motive. "Why did _you_ really come out here? How did you even find me in the middle of the woods?”

“wasn’t hard.” He said, nonplussed. “papyrus said you walked over this way and seemed cheesed about something.”

“Careful Sans. Keep up this behaviour and I might start thinking you’re actually worried about me.” You peered at him sideways before deciding to push your train of thought. “Be honest, did Papyrus put you up to this? Is this your weird way of making nice with the human?”

"saw right through me," he shrugged. "do you want me to leave?"

"I don’t care. You probably don’t either.”

He gave you a long look, but you noted he didn’t contest your statement. You gritted your teeth and faced forward. The more you tried not to think about things that irritated you, the worse your head felt.

The remainder of the walk didn’t take very long. The slow, circuitous route finally brought you to your destination, the path emptying out to a large, half-circle terrace. You walked carefully across the old flat stones for a better look at your surroundings. A strong breeze gusted through, but it never completely died down. You guessed you were probably near a cliff ridge of some sort. The cool air on your skin made you feel marginally better.

‘Made it,’ you thought, breathing in the cool air and ignoring the chill. Only then did you take in the sight.

A house. Or the dilapidated, skeletal remains of one. The first two levels were partially buried in the slope of the hill it was built into, the third peeking above ground. The wood exterior of the rustic building was extraordinarily worn down, the edges of the foundation crumbling to dust. The few square holes in the walls where windows had lined it might have opened onto the once-spectacular view. But those had long since fallen out. You squinted for a closer look at what you thought was a large black wall on the third floor, surprised to find that it was, in reality, the inside of the house. The whole wall had fallen away, and the floor jutted out from underneath the roof, exposed to all the elements.

Sans entered the patio behind you, “is this a house?”

“Used to be.” You swept your gaze over the dusty terrace. It was obviously built for viewing, and you could tell it must have been something special in it’s glory days, before the trees had grown up and concealed it from the world. Only dappled light from the sky filtered through the treetops. “I’ve never been out here.” A smirk tugged at your lips. “Mother always hated whenever this place was brought up.”

“and you want to go into there?”

“Yes.” The smirk gained a teasing lilt to it. “Don’t worry, Sans. I’ll protect you from the scary things that go bump in the dark.”

“ha ha, so funny. i almost forgot to laugh,” he scoffed, not quite smiling, although a glint of humour showed in the roll of his eye lights. “since you clearly know what you’re doing, i leave my wellbeing in your clearly capable hands.”

“You’re god damn right.”

You steered up the hill, overgrown grass crushed underfoot. Through the wall hole you could see that part of the ceiling was caving in. “My grandmother grew up in it before having the bigger one we’re staying in built.” By the time you arrived at the original entrance, your smile had faded. “She had only ever told me stories about this place. Some of them were a bit fantastical and a bit out there, but that was the kind of woman she was.”

You pushed open the door.

There was a dull screech from the door as it shuddered and swung open on creaking hinges, rust and dust billowing into the air. Outside, the fallen away wall revealed nothing more than the outlines of trees through the dim light. Inside, the room stretched away from you into murky darkness. It was much larger than you imagined. Though the sun was still up, the light did not make into all the way inside.

Stepping inside, the near barren top floor almost looked like more like broken off ledge than a recognizable room. The remainder of the furniture was ratty and overturned. A shelf with a few of its shelves broken sat in the corner. In the opposite corner was the glass remains of a pot with dirt scattered across the ground. You could see slightly lighter spaces on the wall where picture frames used to hang.

“ah. this place seems down in the dumps,” Sans said, smirking.

You carefully made your way across the crumbling floor to a closed, narrow doorway on the other end, sticking as close to the wall as possible. Below you, floors and walls jutted out to various lengths. It made you feel like you were standing in a layer of a giant cake. “It’s where your jokes belong.”

“maybe that explains where i’ve been finding myself in all these trashy places lately.”

“I can see why.”

“you implyin’ something there?” His grin widened.

“Yeah.” You toed the door back, and propped it open for you both to pass through. “I think the universe is trying to tell me something. If I throw you in this garbage, you can be with your people.”

“ooh, if i’d known you were into trash talking i’d have done this ages ago,” Sans snickered, nudging you in the side as he stepped over the threshold.

“I’m not. It just seems fitting when it comes to you though.”

Passing through the narrow doorway, you quickly found yourself descending a winding stairwell, down, down, over steps partially rotted through and past crumbling window holes and other narrow doorways. Some still had rustic wooden doors, others had lost theirs long ago. You made your way down carefully, gripping a railing as you went. The ones without doors gave you a little glimpse into the lower levels of the house. From what you could see they were empty rooms as well.

Ahead, Sans seemed content casually walking and occasionally inspecting a different decrepit area of the house that briefly interested him, but he did stick close to the wall. “hey now. i may be trash, but I’m high quality trash. premium trash. grade a trash. the kind of trash your mom would look at and say ‘shouldn’t this be recycling?’”

“That’s all you seem to do with your puns.”

“better to recycle them then let an opportunity go to waste.”

You had counted several doors when one caught your attention. It was rustic and handmade, but it retained some of it’s bright red paint, and was bedecked with much finer hardware. The difference brought you to a stop, while Sans’ footsteps clacked away down the stairs.

Ornate metal hinges created a filigree pattern against the worn timbers. And what at first glance looked like a lock was an intricately patterned pin wedged into an equally detailed metal fastener. It was rusty, but you knew you could open it.

Somewhere outside the building a bird was chirping, the leaves made a thin rustling sound. But around you it was silent. You were alone.

‘Just a quick peek,’ you thought.

Curling your hair behind your ears, you wiggled the rusty metal free of it’s hold and let the heavy door swing open. You peered into the thick darkness. There was something in there.

Sans had continued on, but when he didn’t hear you behind him anymore he backtracked to find you.

“hey,” Sans called from down the steps. You looked down the curved wall to see him waiting for you, caught in the glow of some unseen window. You could clearly make out his furrowed brows. You ignored it.

“This room is different,” you said slowly, turning back to the doorway. “There are paintings in here. Really remarkable paintings.” You stuck your head inside the doorway, squinting in the low light. “Do you think it’s safe to go in?” you called over your shoulder.

He trudged back up the steps, curiosity piqued enough to start him moving. “probably. i don’t know.”

But you were already moving across the dusty room by the time he returned to the landing.

The air was thick and stagnant, and the only light came from a few shuttered window holes. Slants of light fell across the other panel-covered walls. Everywhere there were faces and scenes, bright patches of clothes, edges of roofs, glimpses of landscapes, flashes of villages and the people who lived in them. You moved quickly down the long wall flinging the shutters back one at a time. When you were finished you turned to stare at your discovery.

It was like the sun had risen on another world. Painted screens wrapped around the room and were covered from top to bottom with glorious illustrations of villages and landscapes, battles and group gatherings, men training and women visiting. There was a single path wandering through it all, upon which traveled a man who looked like none of them.

Still frozen in the doorway, Sans’ eye sockets widened. He moved closer to you, trying to take it all in, but simply couldn’t. He didn’t seem to know where to look first.

All around you dust billowed up, little flecks sparkling in the large beams of light. It gave the paintings and the whole room a magical air. Like you had just opened a treasure box.

“Look,” You moved to identify the sequence of events played out on the panels. It began with a painted battle scene from the days before the villages. You didn’t know anything about the groups represented, but understood the story it told. It was an old folk tale about a person with great power who spread his knowledge far and wide. And even though you knew none of the participants you could tell some of the areas represented, forests, deserts, snowy mountains and oceans. It was a tale interweaving myth with the land on which you lived.

Eye lights wide, Sans was rapt. He listened to your story and watched the action being played out on the walls in front of him.

You went panel by panel, moving across, telling the tale with your hands.

“Here, these would have been the best warriors of the day.” You motioned to a group of engaged in fierce battle and then moved to the next screen, sweeping your arm high, “…and here, the person travelled to another land to meet the leaders of the local groups. See, you can tell by their head pieces,” you said, stopping to point at the men’s unusually-shaped hats. You continued on, walking around the room, talking about the men and women painted in exquisite detail, the changing of seasons, the person’s journey.

Sans stayed right beside you listening to it all, wondering about the colorful battles, the long journey and where strangely dressed man would wind up.

But you already knew how this story would end, for you two at least. You glanced ahead. Sans hadn’t yet noticed, as caught up as he was in the story, that the last panels were gone, taken in antiquity. Even the spaces where they used to hang on the old wall were as dark as their surroundings.

“keep going,” he said, eyes still devouring the screen you stood in front of. His tone was so earnest you didn’t have the heart to tell him the tragedy that was to come.

‘No one likes a story without an ending,’ you thought, ‘be it humans or monsters.’

You continued, studying the paintings, narrating as best as you could, explaining when he had questions about a few unusual things.

“are his hands on fire?”

“Not sure. Maybe he’s a mage and he’s demonstrating how magic works.”

“what’s he carrying?”

“That’s a staff.”

“what’s wrong with his eyes?”

“Um…I don’t really know.”

You moved to the last set, but it needed no narration. The person battled with a fanciful creature under a yellow moon. Both were poised to attack amid long streams of pale light.

But just at the decisive moment, the panel ended.

Sans’ skeletal grin was slack and not much of a grin anymore, but he said nothing. The empty wall stretched away from you, lonely and vast without it’s grand story. You sighed softly.

A thought perked him up. “do you know what happened?” he asked quickly.

“No. Parts of it is pieces of folk lore I’ve picked up from here and there, but the rest I’ve never heard of.” You shrugged, adding, “Maybe just ghost stories for the people who lived here.”

Catching Sans’ serious look, you remembered yourself and turned to peruse some of the illustrations again. Sans wasn’t far behind as you moved back down the line of panels.

“how do you know all of this?”

“I learned it from my grandmother,” you finished quietly. “Let’s keep going.”

He silently acquiesced and followed you to the stairs, leaving the glittering, light filled room behind. Both of you were silent after that, winding down past more and more doors.

You bounded down the last stretch of stairs, the bottom steps emptying out in front of you onto a stone floor. But peering out through the narrow doorway, you were unprepared for the sight that waited there. If the room on the upper floor had been all darkness and concealment, then this was it’s lofty, light-filled counterpart.

You slowly walked in. You were at the base of the house. The open room was paneled with wood, illuminated by a large open window on the wall opposite the door. There were no shutters here, and years of exposure to the elements had taken it's toll on the once grand room. Only traces of red and yellow paint clung to the edges of the walls, sunk deep in the grooves of the old wood. Carved out of a corner was a miniscule fireplace, it's rocks as grey and worn as the paneling. Birds flew in and out and jostled leaf-littered stones, wary of the intruders to their habitat.

By the time you had come to a stop a respectable distance from the gaping hole in the wall Sans was already seated at it, leisurely leaning back on his hands.

He nodded to sit down — “it’s fine,” he replied at your trepidation — and you dangled your legs off the edge of the broken floor. Just in front of you, a gnarled tree grew out of a crack in the terrace. Its branches arched out over the ground, and leaves jangled in the breeze like dusty, green coins from the twisting, thorny limbs. Leaning your head back, you watched the leaves sway, birds fluttering back to their perches.

It was serene, tranquil. A peaceful spot apparently hidden away from the world. It came as no surprise your grandmother had loved it.

You blinked out of your blank stare, deep words filtering through the haze in your head, “Sorry, what?”

“i wasn’t expecting this,” Sans repeated, his voice taking on a more relaxed tone than you’d ever heard.

“Me neither. I’m not even sure what made me come out here,” you admitted, reaching out beside you to pluck a small, stray stone from the ground. “Maybe I just wanted to waste a bit of time. I don’t know. I’ve been told only the lowest forms of trash do things without purpose.”

He blinked a few times, thinking about it. He shrugged finally. “that stinks. just because someone’s trash doesn’t mean you can’t do great things. it’s called garbage can, not garbage cannot.”

“Inspiring words of wisdom but I can't believe we're returned to your trashy puns.”

“i'm recycling.”

“Oh we're back to this.”

“that's the point of recycling isn't it?”

“Not if they’re all garbage. They deserve to be kicked to the curb.”

“i love it when you talk dirty to me.” He grinned cheekily, waggling his weird, malleable brow bones.

Uh.

Sans suddenly snorted. His composure just cracked as he dissolved into loud laughter. Frozen, you stared at him with wide eyes, trying to comprehend what just occurred. You could only imagine what kind of face you were making right now.

You whipped your head back around, scrambling for a good response. Something, anything to get him to shut up. It slipped out before your mind could fully think it through. “Knock knock!”

“fuck,” Sans wheezed out, trying to catch his breath, “w-who’s there?”

“Beats.”

_No, shut up right now. This is a mistake._

Dilated eye lights flicked to you. “beats who?”

“Beats me.”

Sans blinked and then burst into a ridiculous fit of more laughter. No, _giggles_. Uncharacteristically high pitched giggles compared to his regular voice. You could only sit there in silence, bewildered at yourself and at this hunched over skeleton gripping his knees, shoulders shaking uncontrollably. That was an awful idea. Why had you done that and dug only a deeper hole for yourself? Why had you ever been scared of this goober in the first place?

“knock-” He gasped for air. It helped none, he’s laughing too hard. “knock knock.”

“…Who’s there?”

“dismay.”

“Dismay who?”

“dismay be a bad joke, but it can’t b-beat out your last one.”

You contemplated finding the nearest cliff and throwing yourself off it to save you from the all consuming embarrassment churning in your stomach. You turned your face away from him. It was a small gesture, but seemed the only thing you could do when faced with this aside from outright walking away.

Between this and yesterday, a very polarizing perception of Sans was taking shape in your mind.

The down to earth one who knew a frightening amount of jokes and puns and inhaled grease and sweets, who could seem to hardly muster the energy to get up from the couch, who seemed about as intimidating as a wet paper bag.

The aloof one who vanished for hours and never had enough care to spare you a second glance, who seemed more guarded around anyone beside Papyrus.

The one that towered over you with the too tight grip, too wide grin, too dark eyes freezing your blood to ice, who made you feel so much smaller and made your heart beat with terror.

Sometime later Sans finally had reigned enough self control over himself to settle into a modicum of quiet. Huffing, you pulled your arm back and let the stone clasped between your fingers fly. The pleasing hollow knock of stone hitting wood echoed back to you. Sans picked up a rock of his own and flicked it two feet. You passed a good bit of time this way, silently seeing who could throw rocks the furthest. Or the shortest.

He gave a quiet sigh, bouncing his rock in his hand. “knock knock.”

You folded your arms across your chest, pushed your lips into a thin line and blew a breath out through your nose, physically refusing to say anything to him.

He chuckled quietly, still grinning widely. “knock knock.”

“You can't be serious.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the light clicks of bone meeting stone. You threw a few more.

“knock knock.”

"...Who's there?"

“sans.”

“Sans who?”

“sans when did you play along with my knock knock jokes?”

You picked up another rounded pebble and turned it over and over in your hand, thinking. “Sans when have you been such a friendly person towards me? It’s honestly kind of scary.”

He caught the stone in his fist, staring ahead out over the terrace. All trace of laughter had been swept from his expression. The grin was there but seemed disturbingly lacking to you after seeing the amused hilarity of the previous one. “scary? what do you mean?”

“Don’t play stupid. It’s actually kind of insulting.” Ready to be done with this, you took the direct method. “I don’t get it. Why did you come out here?” you said quietly. “From everything I know, you couldn’t seem to give less of a shit about what I do on any given day. What is it you want from me? What do you want me to say?”

“nothing.” His tone immediately lightened, but you didn’t trust it. “really.”

The pebble pegged the tree in front of you with a sharp clack. It ricocheted, skittering across the ground.

“Bullshit. I’m not interested in your excuses. If there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s mixed signals and you’re full of it.” Your hands started gesturing, as if you could vent out the frustration that had been compounding since day one. “You throw puns around me like there’s tomorrow. You designed a glitter bomb to blow up in my face. One day you threaten me, another you seem totally at ease around me. Then you act like I don’t _exist_. Now you’re following me around and I just can’t understand all these complete 180s. It's never just _nothing_. There has to be a reason. Something to it. There _always_ is. That's how people work.”

It just kept coming, pouring past the normal floodgates that held thoughts like this in check. You didn’t mean to sound accusatory or upset but it gradually seeped into your voice, more and more ingrained into every word you threw out.

Sans had turned to you in the middle of your rambling, eye lights drawn into sharp focus but dim against the darkness of his sockets and flickering over your face. You didn’t know what you looked like, what was he was seeing. It’s probably not good. It didn’t feel good. You didn’t even know why you chose now to bring up this. It was like all your impulse control had evaporated.

“Is this about when I pointed a knife at you? Do you really hate me and are you just covering it up, Sans? Don’t burden yourself with sparing my feelings.”

His own expression shifted minutely. His eye lights got smaller and you dimly recognized the slight surprise, his shoulders stiff.

You powered on, pointing at yourself. “Or if you just don’t like me, instead of tiptoeing around it and faking niceties, you should at least say it straight to my face. I already told you I wouldn’t hold it against you if you did. So, _what is it?”_

You’re both stock still after you’ve spat out the last word. The heavy, near tangible silence between you stretching from a moment into minutes as you stared at each other. The growing irritation simmered under your skin like a kettle. Your fingers twitched at your sides, antsy with the desire to do something.

You were used to dealing with sudden outbursts, accusations. They tended to be true anyway, and the truth often hurt. But silence always cut deeper. At least if someone got mad, got upset, sad, anxious, happy, you got a clear idea of how they felt.

This. This was nothing. It bothered you, he bothered you, on a level deeper than you’d ever care to admit.

This reminded you too much of Shane. Of someone trying to close you off. Yes, you could still read him to an extent, but more often than not what thoughts you picked up on…

This reminded you too much of-

_Say something._

You couldn’t even hear Sans breathing. Yours was the only disturbance in the tranquility. That’s right. You always were the ripple in the calm waters, the disturbance of the peace. The one never content to let sleeping dogs lie.

Maybe you should leave.

That’s what you always did, wasn’t it?

Your hands curled into fists, nails digging crescent furrows into clammy palms. Your head slightly dipped, a breath of air leaving your constricted lungs. You finally looked away and a few startled birds flew from their perches. They had mistaken you as part of the scenery.

You laughed then. Not a soft giggle or beaming chuckle. No. It was a short, bitter two beats of sound surprising even you, near incomparable to the ordinarily joyous titter that you knew.

“Fucking forget I said anything then. Or pretend I made a horrible punchline. Y’know, the joke’s on me.” You didn’t sound upset anymore, just factual. You blinked at the fading light, banishing the prickling sensation out of your eyes. “It’d be fitting.”

You wished you were one of those birds.

They could just fly out of this room and away from it all.

You didn’t know how much time passed after that. You only stayed aware just enough of the fact that sun had descended, burnishing the sky a deep orange and red.

When your ears registered a mumble that didn’t quite break the still air, you had mistaken it for a woodland creature at first. But then you heard Sans clear his throat next to you. You didn’t acknowledge him or the inquisitive thought of how he managed that with the distinct lack of a throat, more preoccupied with the ache pounding a harsh beat in your head.

“no. i don’t hate you.” Sans said in a blunt but measured tone. “you’d know if i did. and it’s not that i dislike you either. cause i don’t.”

There was a pause, but when you made no move to respond or look at him he carried on.

“as for the knife thing, i told you i don’t hold grudges. didn’t think you were still hung up on that though, it was weeks ago. and monsterkind has been pretty good on relearning how to deal with people on the Surface so there’s that.” You said nothing. There was a shuffle. “you’re right about one thing i guess.”

You slowly glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. Sans had a knee propped up with arm draped across it, the other leg left to dangle over the edge like before. He wasn’t looking you, eyes trained squarely trained on the gray stretch of stone outside.

“i’m not one who cares about much; but sometimes i figure it’s better to be safe than sorry. especially when it comes to… humans…”

He seemed somewhat troubled by something with the last sentence.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes, consciously focusing on your breathing. Your surroundings began to ebb. You gripped the conflicting emotions in hand and muffled them, dulled the noise down to a point where they could no longer bother you.

“Okay.”

“okay?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was thin. “You think what you think. I just wanted to know. Thanks for saying something.”

He pried his gaze from the ground, locking it onto you. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at you thoughtfully. “sorry about how i ended that last sentence. i made it come off as generalizing insult-”

“Don’t bother. I get it.” You shook your head. “When humans get involved things become hell an’ powder house. You remember what I said yesterday, right? I stand by it. They’re opportunists, they leave you behind or don’t hesitate to throw you under the bus if it suits them or furthers their own needs, they seem to do nothing but look down on others different to them. They can be fucking petty and selfish and are full of hate and...and…”

When he spoke up, his voice was quiet. Near inaudible. “you’re not like that.”

You didn’t know how to respond.

Thoughts of Mai, Hana, Sine, the rest your friends floated into your mind. “…Not all humans are I guess.”

You lowered your head and stared at the ground. The edges of your sight were blurry. Gray stone and green grass peaking through it started to blend together in a jumbled mess. The shapes were still there, or at least the memory of ledge you were perched on, the tree, but the rest was rendered amorphous beneath the haze. Everything seemed muted.

The ground on your side seemed to let you sink further into its softness.

It was nice.

You were almost content to stay like that, thoughts a quiet murmur. It was almost like sleep. But soon they stirred, thinning the comfortable fog away and the dark outlines of the forest began to take shape. Flecks of peeling wood surfaced beside your thigh as the floor came into clearer view.

You blinked.

The effect was like dropping back to Earth. Your weight was fully pressed against something warm and hard, as your eyes opened fully and the world swung into focus. Your head still ached. Blue danced at the edge of your vision, playfully just out of your direct line of sight.

The hard thing you’re leaning into was not so much as hard as it was bony. It’s Sans’ shoulder.

For a moment, it’s dead silent aside from quiet, even breathing. You didn’t know if Sans had fallen asleep. You sat up off his frame as softly as you could, yet as soon as you moved Sans’ voice filled the air.

“good, you’re awake.” The small, faded lights of his half open eye sockets were trained on the sky. There were dark, shallow grooves underneath his eyes. “we should get going, it’s pretty late.”

“Are you ser-” You stopped. “Did you fall asleep?”

“a bit.” He stood. “c’mon. can you stand?”

You drew yourself to your feet and twisted your head for a better look at the sky. But the quick movement sent the world spinning.

You squeezed your eyes shut, dug your fingers into your palms, and gritted your teeth against the dizziness. The nausea lulled. You rolled your head and tried to focus your eyes, but you only barely made out the blue-grey of late evening. You’re surprised to find it was not so late in the day as you had thought, the dappled light of the first bright stars twinkling in the far distance. 

And it was still entirely too soon to be moving.

Sans’ eyes opened marginally wider and he pinned you with a pointed look. “can you walk?”

You swayed and stepped a few feet toward the stairs. Your limbs were heavy and tired. The muscles you normally took for granted rebelled from your command. “I think,” you trailed off drowsily then came back around. You slid a hand into your hair at your temple and balled it into a fist, trying to bite back the pain. “I think so…Relatively. I’ll be okay.”

Sans sighed and reached over, lightly taking hold of your forearm. You could just feel the slight pressure over the plaid sleeve.

Gently tugging you forward, Sans steered you outside, staying a step ahead of you and moving in tandem, just as you both had done on the way here. By the time you arrived on the forest path, your breathing was beginning to calm but the pain at the front of your head rendered the rest of your surroundings little more than a blur. You squinted your eyes shut and concentrated your efforts staying upright like a normal person.

“knock knock.”

“Nooo.” You groaned, “Stop.”

There was a hesitant pause. “c’mon. work with me here kid.”

You’d glare at Sans if you weren’t so focused on steadily keeping one foot in front of the other. “Fine. Who’s there?”

“deja.”

“Deja who?”

“knock knock.”

“…Who’s there?”

“what?”

“What who—”

Everything seemed to slip sideways.

The sounds of your heart pumping and blood flowing rang throughout your ears. You tried to steady yourself and pinpoint a sense of balance through the vertigo. You hear _black_. All your screaming instincts driven by the desperate to stay still was eclipsed by that most basic need to _move._ Your entire being itself seemed to snap back into place and then—

“huh? what are you talking about?”

You stole a moment to breath in deeply before the feeling subsided, calming your dangerously spinning head. The headache must have been worse than you thought. Fatigue was setting in hard. “You said knock knock?”

“who’s there?”

You opened your eyes, but your biting insult died in your throat in a strangled squeak. You blinked in confusion as your vision eased enough for the spinning image of the house to sync up. The colors seemed too saturated, almost buzzing in your head. “Wait…weren’t we just…in the forest?”

Beside you, Sans was staring at you, “you must be really out of it.”

You furrowed your brows but said nothing else. The whole thing was confusing and exhausting. Inside, you immediately wrenched a packet of advil from the cupboard and fixed yourself a mug of coffee.

Sans waited patiently, eventually coaxing you to your room. "how much coffee do you drink?"

"Oh, not much," you said, taking a sip of coffee. Your hands were shaking. You hadn't slept in six days. You could hear colors. “Everything’s fine with me.”

“fine huh.” He pushed open the door and nudged you inside. “just…get some sleep.”

He lingered in the doorway, something in his eyes that you couldn't define before he shook his head, closing the door behind him.

You quietly drank the coffee and thought over what he’d said, his statements neutral and his attitude confounding. You finished and tried to align your thoughts through the quickly encroaching drowsiness. None of it made sense.

You shut it all out and slid back under the covers, pulling it over your eyes to block out the light causing your head to pound even more.

Hours inched by at a crawl.

You didn’t sleep.

Gold light and green shadows dappled in and out of focus. Flinging an arm up to block the morning sunlight, you rubbed tired eyes and disorientation washed over you.

You blew a long, low breath, closed your eyes, and cursed the world. The queasy feeling sharpened. Beads of sweat pricked your upper lip and forehead. This time it was a full two minutes before the pounding in your ears and the bile in your throat finally abated. Blinking up at the ceiling, feeling better though still light-headed, you wiped a sleeve down your face and sat up slowly, the blankets pooling in your lap.

You slowly brushed your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ears. Your throat was sore, your head was tender, and everything stiff. More tired than you’d ever felt before. Resting in bed had done nothing this time.

No, if you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t taken into account how much the stress, the fear, the doubt would eat into your ability to rejuvenate. You were still approaching this whole ordeal from a distance, as if it were a case study or a test in class.

Well, textbooks didn’t cover the fear. That was like carrying another wound altogether.

At your bedside, obsidian gleamed in the thin shafts of light streaming through the window.

You inhaled deeply and sighed. It was alright. Just a little dizziness. Nothing you hadn’t pushed through before.

Resolved, you clambered to your feet, swaying dangerously for a moment. You gripped the oaken furniture and knocked off the contents, closing your eyes again as the world wavered and spun. For several long moments, you just breathed. But once you had your bearings enough to walk, you set off downstairs.

Your thoughts were beginning to muddle. Fighting to keep your eyes open, you stumbled. Good thing there were walls to lean on. You were so tired. If only you could just fall asleep right here, and then wake up and have it all be just a dream.

A dream…

The bare threads of thought fell away from you, slipping by like dust through your grasping fingers. You just needed to get to the kitchen, that was enough…if you could just do that…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, accidentally posted the unfinished draft for half a second before I could put in the finished chapter. Sorry for any errors in notifications?? Also sorry for not getting this out in a remotely timely manner. Meant to post on Thursday and there were delays but it is the longest chapter to date. 9.5k. So that might count for something. I needed to get the resolution to Sans problem started and Spaghetti Tues/Wed slipped in there but now we can finally have some fun. =)
> 
> Fun fact, I was bouncing my garbage jokes off my brother and then I got to the 'talk dirty to me part' and he almost hit me with a wooden board and told me to delete it. That’s how I knew it had to stay. Anyway, I was so entertained by the comments on the last chapter. Keep it up guys, I always grin when I see one. Especially the 'oh no they're hot' ones. I've even been prompted to draw Sans now. Skele and human. Still no blue eyed sex god Sanses here but you do get somewhat ambiguous brown eyed black haired thicc Sans at the blog.
> 
> Also remember I hang out at my [tumblr](https://myosctis.tumblr.com/) sometimes and write and stuff. You can yell at me there, submit prompts, or even ask the characters in this fic stuff. Like 'Sans, what the hell prompted you be so friendly this chapter', 'Papyrus why are you such an angel' or 'why did you just do stupid things Reader'. I will also be definitely taking suggestions for things people would like to see in the fic later on and it wouldn't hurt to get a head start, am I right?


	13. Fallen Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theories on This World:  
> “Via a trading of existences, the imaginary can be made reality.”

Darkness.

Darkness was all you could see. The back of your eyelids hadn't changed despite the world around you. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, you allowed yourself to blink open your eyes.

The area beneath you came into view first. Silver outlining of the dirt and grass came first before the insects appeared, little life forms coasting by as they went about their business in the forest. The dusk streamed through the holes in the dark clouds and painted them in an almost mystical glow. Your eyes wandered up to catch a glimpse of the sky through the dense, dark trunks but green glass drew your gaze. Your eyes dilated as darkness finally embraced your proximity and chilly fear rolled through your bones.

The old Victorian greenhouse was much smaller and obscured by encroaching flora and low growing greenery. A slight breeze danced around your prone form, kissing your skin in a malicious promise. Tendrils of night started to snake into the pockets of trees that closed around you like crooked bars. The sun setting seemed faster and faster. Everything had faded into twilight. Was it that late? Or were you blacking out?

You might not have recognized it as the place from your previous nightmare if 'The Marble Gardens' wasn't written across the towering double door entrance.

Nightmare.

Something caught up with you in your head and you felt awareness rush upon you like a salty wave, shaking the very foundation of your footing. You wrapped your arms around yourself and timidly stepped backward, wincing when withered leaves crunched under your feet. A foul, bitter taste rose up into your mouth and you shivered softly as the first sprinkles of rain followed it. That greenhouse was from a dream, meaning you were in a dream now.

"Of course," you moaned as the cool breeze carried the tiny particles of rain with each soft caress, the humidity making your skin pebble with goose bumps.

This was exactly what you’d been afraid of. The realm of sleep imitated real life all too well and it must be angry you had denied it for so long. Eager to dig it’s claws into you and make you suffer once more.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a few moments, concentrating on slow, quiet breaths. It was a challenge, trying not to let your mind wander to the possible terrors lurking in the trees around you as the mist slowly turned into a slow shower. The heat from the ground and trees let off a low sitting fog, soon to enshroud you in a grey cocoon.

The dreams weren’t simply consisting of dust, darkness, and your death anymore. Each time you fell into them the attention to details grew, further spanning the increasing web of complexity.

You didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.

Up until now you were always shocked back awake before the last shreds of air were strangled from your dust coated lungs. With the dreams replicating reality so accurately, what would happen if you really died in them?

You wanted to wake up.

A twig snapped. Your eyes flew open against your will. You stopped abruptly as a shadow flashed through the trees, obscuring your vision momentarily. Was there someone else there? It then happened again. And again.

Your vision blurred for a second - and then it was _right there_.

There were faces, figures, pressing in on all sides. The forest had suddenly filled with people without you even realising. The greenhouse had vanished amongst the tide of spectres. You were left alone in the swarming crowd of contact that you didn't want. You had to be hallucinating again.

You stopped again as you realised that you recognised a lot of the faces. Family, colleagues, old teachers and classmates, people you passed every day on the way to work... And strangers. So many strangers...

All of them–people you knew, people you didn't–breaking the space that you'd fought so hard to keep everyone out of. A hand on your shoulder, someone's leg pressing up against yours, arms attempting to encircle you out of or some pity or attempt at comfort.

You desperately tried again to push away from them. Surely this wasn't happening. It was impossible. There couldn't be so many people trapping you into one tiny space. You couldn't keep them all at arm's length.

The rain tasted of your fear.

You had to wake up.

That's how it found you. It came up on you like a bird of prey upon a rabbit. Suffocating you whole, the presence wrapped around you tight. You couldn't move. Air rushed into your burning lungs, but you couldn't seem to get enough of it. The world darkened on the edges. Sounds around you became muted - the distant buzzing and chirping of bugs fell silent; the wind stopped. Desperation filled you, a cold hand gripping at your heart and squeezing with each beat of the muscle. You had to get out of here.

You forced yourself to blink, shaking your head, faltering back so you could run. Unwilling to turn your back on the crowd of spectres you scrambled for purchase, trying to escape the horrid presence that wanted to swallow you whole. Your shoes slipped in the moist, loosened earth and you tumbled over the gnarled roots of a weathered tree reaching from the ground in your crazed attempt to escape.

Sharp rocks dug into your palms, but your ignored the pain, instinctively scrabbling backwards–

Hands reached for your throat. You couldn't find the breath to scream.

You needed to wake up.

A brief sense of falling hit you, like what you get when you jolt out of a dream.

And then nothing.

Was it white?

Was it darkness?

It was hard to distinguish anything from the overwhelming press of nothing. A road, a sea of faces, a strange child. Books, tools, row upon row of bottles and beakers. Warm hands, a voice... And cold. Everlasting cold...

When anything conscious floated forward, you realized that it came to you in the form of something cushion-like and soft. Your eyes were still closed, but your fingers had found their way to a soft throw pillow. The little sensation helped kick start the cogs in your head.

You sat up a little too abruptly, causing your head to whirl as a dizzying feeling swept over you. The first thing your body registered – besides your pounding heart, which had leapt straight up into your throat – was a losing fight with gravity. Reeling unsteadily for a moment with a yell, you pin wheeled your arms before toppling down to your side. You landed on a hard surface at least a foot below from wherever you'd been laying with a hard thump.

A muffled groan worked from your throat through a set of heavy gasps for oxygen, your entire body aching. "What…" Gritting your teeth and keeping your eyes clenched shut, you made no attempt to move from the uncomfortable and awkward position you'd landed on. Your back felt cramped, as if you’d been lying uncomfortably for a long time, and your head was throbbing dully – both behind your eyes and at some point close to your temple. The faint flashes of the nightmare still lingered at the back of your mind. Too close, everything was too close.

But struggling to ignore it for now, you simply remained where you'd fallen for a moment, trying to let the remaining threads of the dream to fade away. A dream. It'd only been a dream.

’It's not real,’ you told yourself as your kept your eyes closed, fighting to catch your breath and calm down your racing heartbeat. Just a dream. Not real.

The pillow had fallen with you, your fingers curled deep within the woollen surface. It smelled slightly like crisp snow, flowers–daisies, it seemed–and ketchup.

Wait – ketchup?

You blearily opened your eyes against the glare of indoor lights that slammed against your vision. Blinking a couple of times to get the world into vague focus, you swept your gaze across your surroundings. The dark brown swirls of a wooden coffee table were closest from your face, one of the legs squashing against your nose. At this same time you became aware of the soft carpet that pressed against your cheek. You glanced up, seeing the underside of a long sofa.

The living room?

You slowly sat up and wiped the thin sheet of sweat from your face, brushing against the sore spot with your fingers coming away with congealed flakes of red.

Not good.

Almost robotically you hauled yourself to your bare feet and stumbled about finding a bathroom, leaning on the wall for support. The lights were too much to keep your eyes open aside from narrowed slits keeping you aware enough to avoid walking face first into a wall.

You’re not sure why it seemed to be such a struggle to finally locate one. Everything felt _off_. Not just as if someone randomly swapped the rooms in a house around the way they would in a Sims game but in a more intimate way you couldn’t describe, that made your stomach curdle and your bones tremble. But you felt like death warmed over and you’re sure you looked the part. That sense of unease could easily be chalked up to the sleep deprivation and a barely functioning brain after head trauma.

Everything about the dream trickled back in a hazy, disjointed recollection. A forest, the greenhouse, too many people, the sense of falling... Well, that was likely a clear indicator as to where your headache had come from.

While you were almost done brushing your teeth, you noticed that your face was more worse for the wear. You looked older than your age. You washed out your mouth and touched your face in the mirror. You blinked, banishing away some of the blackness that still swirled in your sight.

Your lips were dry, dark circles hung from the bottom of lifeless eyes. Pallid skin that seemed haggard under the uncontrollable limp of hair on top of your head, uncombed and flying everywhere. Your cheeks were slightly gaunt. Crusted blood painted the left side of your head. Dark discoloration bloomed across the stretch of skin that had probably taken the brunt of the fall. You seemed to flicker in and out of existence. Like a spirit that'd been sucked out and left there.

Sighing, you turned your eyes out to the window. Pushing open the window, you took in the fresh air as though it could cleanse your soul. Light glittered green in the far distance amongst the trees. Below in the streets a faint rumble that accompanied early morning life. “Time to find out who deposited me on the couch. Thank them for not leaving me passed out on the ground I guess.”

But despite everything that was tentatively 'normal,' for now, there was something missing. Before you were walking to the kitchen in the dead quiet of morning. Not even Papyrus was up and about yet. With each second that ticked by, the thought coalesced into something much more sensible. You _had_ made it to the kitchen in the morning; it was the last thing you'd remembered… you were _sure_ of it.

Your eyes narrowed in thought. Something was off. Very wrong. But what were you missing here?

You ran your fingers through your hair then kneaded your temples with a pained scowl, both in an effort to relieve your headache and to clear your jumbled thoughts. You tried to remember, your eyes set in a concentrated glare as images of some sort of slid across your brain. Odd, how a month ago you wouldn't have dreamed that all of this would happen to you. A month ago, you still dreamed that you would succeed in life and rub the fact that you managed to do it in your mother’s face despite her penchant for doubting you.

Your mother.

Your eyes widened as the single word snapped into your head. A gleam of green glass bouncing sunbeams off its surface sent your thoughts into a stutter. It started in your chest, where your heart was. _Knowing_ , even on a subconscious level, was as suffocating as the presence. Pooling in your heart it felt as if the muscle no longer beat. Suddenly a flash of unconscious fear whirled through you, freezing you in place as the realization crept in like something godawful. Your mother wasn't there. But people you didn’t recognize were.

It hadn’t been just you overthinking things like you’d been worrying about. The rooms really were different. This wasn’t your bathroom. This wasn’t your house. You had never woken up at all.

Pieces of the confusion flitting through your mind muffled as you gripped the sweater above your heart, blinking slowly. “I'm still dreaming.”

Your body began to run on autopilot. Numbly, you walked out into the foreign halls, down the stairs, back to the living room. Someone else’s living room. A hand gripped the thick curtains hanging in front of the windows. You drew them back and glimpsed the world outside.

It seemed you were in a town or some kind of city that brimmed with life instead of the quiet isolation you’d led up until now. It was like out of advertisement of the ideal small time 1950's town. If you didn't know better you would have sworn you had seen the same exact town printed on a postcard at the retro nostalgia thrift store you and Hana frequented. There was a main street and a green circle in the middle where a fountain surrounded by park benches attracted attention. On either side of the street waterways lined them and crystalline water passed by at leisurely crawls. There was a bakery, a bar, a post office, a grocery store, a diner and a few other colorful shops in between.

Standing tall and somewhat apart from the rest was a three story tall brick front building with a clock set up at the top. It reminded you of the clock tower from the Back to the Future movies. For whatever reason, the building stood out to you. The same could be said for the people. Both normal and distinctly inhuman.

There were humans on the sidewalks and monsters going about their day and they all had faces, but for some reason it was hard for you to focus on them. Their faces were harder to distinguish. Almost blurred out. Was that because they were part of your dream?

Beyond the buildings the trees of a forest sprouted up. Somewhere hidden among the green leaves you’d spotted the glinting green of a glass roof.

What the hell _was_ this?

Your legs buckled and your palms hit the carpet with an awkward smack as you failed to compensate for the unexpected weakness. The world seemed bright and fuzzy and you couldn't get enough air. Already the tumultuous emotions were bubbling up and lashing out, scarring your insides. The fear and anxiety were becoming oh so familiar to you now as they—

"No!" you hissed, clenching your teeth as you gripped those feelings and shoved them back into the void. You weren’t going to let it take over again. Breathing uneasily and crawling back up onto the couch, you picked up the forgotten throw pillow at your feet and threw it to the side where its brethren lay.

A small, humorless scoff slipped through your lips. "This is insane," you whispered aloud to no one, closing your eyes. "But at least this time I'm not dying or surrounded by creepy statues."

And maybe it was because you spent so much time imagining far worse that the sense of overwhelming dread you expected was strikingly absent. The gardens that nearly killed you were close, but that didn't matter. This was a different dream, and you were aware; things could be different.

You shifted and let your back gently fall against the pillows.

_PBBBBFFFFFT!!!_

You jerked onto your side in shock, the loud, wet farting noise sputtering out. From underneath the pillows you fished out a pale pink cushion. Slowly your brows knitted and you just stared in disbelief at the whoopee cushion, limp with the air squeezed out from it and sucking in all the tension from the room as it reflated.

Who…who the hell stuck whoopee cushions under pillows?! The kind of stupid joke seemed right up Sans’ alley.

Fist clenched, you chucked the offending thing across the room. It hit the wall with a pathetic wheeze of air.

“I take it you’re not fond of pranks?”

You bolted upright on the couch at the careful, quiet voice, your annoyance vanishing like it'd never even existed. Holding your breath, you slowly turned your head.

It was another person, but this one wasn't like the others you couldn't focus on. Where everyone else had faded out fuzzy faces, this individual had sharp angles and clearly defined edges to the points of their face. In addition to their clarity, the person in question–a child–was staring straight at you with a gaze full of intention.

They were dressed all in black. Black jeans, brown hair, black and grey stripped sweater with the sleeves pushed up to their elbows, black shoes, and black bags under those unwavering brown eyes. You recognized the style; they were what they called a beatnik, an anti-conformist, 'beaten' down member of society. The dim yellow glow of the lamps reflected on their small form, skin an odd blend of tan and pale in the lighting.

You weren't far from where they sat at the base of the stairs, easily close enough to hear the words that came out of their mouth. " You should not be here. Yet here you are. It didn't take you long to find this place. What gave it away?"

"Excuse me?" You stood crossed the room to stand in front of the child, keeping only enough distance between their shoes and your feet to preserve the security of your personal bubble.

Their voice was toneless and their smile was fake when they looked up at you. It was like you were staring at a mask. Their face looked so familiar to you. "This is where you should be. If I was genuinely curious I would ask again, but how you managed to lead yourself here is of no importance. You're here now, and that is what matters."

Something clicked into place in your brain and the realization must have shown on your face. "You know this is all part of my dream."

"Admitting that can be dangerous. If you think if this dream as it really is the seams will begin to show and we can't have the tent coming down on us, can we? And in all fairness, this isn't exactly a dream. Have you ever dreamed in such a way before?"

"I rarely dream."

"Nothing this vivid?"

No. Not even remotely so. You dreamed as much as the next kid on the block, but your dreams had usually been of the academic nature - showed up late to class and missed a whole semester, or were wholly forgettable by the time you woke up from them. What they were saying was true, but the longer they stared at you with that plaster fake smile made you less and less willing to open your mouth and give them the satisfaction of confirming their statement. Your fingers twitched at your sides, itching to reach out and scratch away the surface of their face to see what laid underneath.

"Who are you?" You were thankful you sounded strong, even if you didn't feel it. Your voice was firmer than it should have been for how hard your heart was hammering in your chest.

The fake smile stretched farther on their face. "I am the Sigh of Dejection, the transient child who guides the Appointed, bane of hate, bastard born, dust formed, and the knower of hidden ways. Ephemera. You may call me Epher for short."

Your mouth went dry with the memory of smoke rushing down your throat. You saw the smoke in your bedroom, the body it took on, and the human hand it hid within from when you were trapped in the gardens. An outstretched hand in the darkness.

"You're the kid from my dream. The smoke."

"Dust formed, yes I am." They tipped their head in your direction. "I hadn’t realized it at the time, but I am also your guide."

"What does that mean?"

Instead of replying, Ephemera stood and moved towards an inconspicuous door tucked off in a corner. Knowing without being told, you followed silently.

While somewhat elegant on the first floor, the narrow staircase that lead to the basement floor were less impressive and smaller. Ephemera moved faster, and you had to ignore the ice cold pinch of the concrete that met your bare feet as you took the stairs two at a time. The air smelled stale, metallic, and foreign, reminding you immediately that you were not at home.

“This city is the center of this Kingdom.” Ephemera said suddenly. “Without saying too much, in order to move onto the second gate you must save this kingdom.”

 _“_ _The easiest way for you to think about this is to consider it a game.”_ Katherine’s voice echoed in your mind. _“In order to advance and put this all behind you, you must fulfill an objective in each kingdom.”_

“Oh. You mean the levels thing.” You frowned. “Then this is the so called kingdom?”

“Yes.”

“This…isn’t what I had in mind. I was expecting something else.”

“Most do. Many did get that expectation.”

Passing through a doorway, you fumbled for the light switch. It flickered on, the illumination uniformly lit up the rectangular room and exposed the intimate skeleton of the structure all around you. The harsh white fluorescents brightened the dull beige walls and the support pillars that kept the rest of the building up.

Pushed against a wall, a long work bench was half buried underneath stacks of papers, electronics, tools, and trash. The desk next to it was in a similar position, the monitor pushed to the side the only clear thing you recognized. The hard drive next to the computer blinked an almost eerie blue. A few complex diagrams beyond your understanding were scattered across the walls alongside posters of celestial bodies and more tools dangling from hooks. More smudged papers were randomly strewn across the floor, as if someone had dashed out in a hurry.

Well. You hadn't come here for comfort; certainly not to admire the decor.

The door clicked shut behind you. Ephemera glanced around absently and fiddled with a tool off the work table. It looked like a drill. “In the end, they all had to try to navigate the world they were thrust into.”

“So…there’s some kind of Inception stuff going on here.” You sighed. “I have to do something to pass right?”

They turned their head to you, one brow cocked. “You know some of what’s happening then. The successful who fulfill an objective purify the tokens and move on to deeper levels of the dream.”

You stepped a few feet in, moving your eyes from the bookcase in the corner to the old couch with a white lab coat thrown haphazardly over the back of it. “Is it true people never move on? They just stay stuck on the level they’re on forever?”

“Your life will belong to this world, until you reach the end.”

You tried to imagine how terrible that could be and was a little disappointed. The Marble Gardens were bad, but things had been rather peaceful so far. "Is it as bad as it sounds? Some people would love to live in a dream world. Escapism and all that."

Their brow lifted a little higher, “You don’t share that same desire?”

“No.”

They held your gaze for a moment then faced the staircase, eyes distant. "That is something you will have to decide for yourself. Others have not thought it to be pleasant after prolonged periods. These worlds don't last in such states for long before regressing to nakedness. Madness often settles in the dreamer."

Something invaded the inside of your mind and the world flashed around you. Out of nowhere, you saw images assaulting you with no real detail as they cut in and out like strobe lights at a rave. Dread and despair whispered in your ears as you were caught in the chokehold of fear. White rooms with bleeding walls, silver basins, black hair knotted into a noose around your throat, your skin dripping off, knives, nightgowns made out of paper, glass walled cages, water, smoke and fire, dust and then nothing.

The vision left you reeling and when you reached out to steady your shuddering self on Ephemera they didn't react in the slightest. Without moving towards or away from you, they stood steadfast. Sucking air through your teeth, the shallow breaths caught in your throbbing lungs, you found your balance once again. When you stood straight again your features were dark and your eyes were set into a sharp glare.

"Don't do that ever again."

"I won't." There was no emotion to their words, so you couldn't get a feel for what they were thinking if they were thinking about anything at all. They were a product of your dreams, so it was likely they didn't think or even feel like a human would.

You claimed the leather high-back office chair, wheels scritching softly against the floor. Swallowing heavily, you forced yourself to take deep breaths until your raging pulse slowed. Ephemera watched you as you slowly drew a sheet of paper from the desk closer to you and glanced down at the words. Some of the notes were smudged.

“A particle traveling at the speed of light can carry momentum and energy even if it's rest mass is zero.” You mumbled to yourself, squinting your eyes. Already your head was beginning to hurt again but you were desperate to get your mind focused on something else. “A particle without rest mass must always travel at exactly the speed of light, from the point of view of any observer. For any other value of v, the relativistic mass equation yields E=0; this contradicts the assertion that the particles carries energy. For v=c, the equation yields the indeterminate value 0/0. Although this result is not informative as it is at least not contradictory. The indeterminate value of the equality m=0/0 means that the relativistic mass m is independent of the rest mass when m0 = 0. Its energy is therefore zero in all frames of reference.”

Below that was more science jargon and one of those grail diagrams you always saw in sci-fi movies on the futuristic computers. Photon wave lengths…natural to recast it in terms of energy…translates to energy-momentum relation...relativistic particles…i.e. applied to plane wave…

Oh man. This wasn’t chemistry and it sure wasn’t biology, which left the last of the big three. You had rudimentary knowledge of this subject but this was some next level stuff. You were way out of your depth here.

A small grin tugged at your lips though, at the little note accompanying the wobbly horizontal line slashed through the diagram: lost ruler. pretend this line is straight.

Whoever wrote these was a distracted note taker apparently. Like the sort to doodle, and write lists or ideas in the margins, that sort of distracted. But there was a lot of science regardless. The joke on the second page you picked up surprised a weak laugh out of you.

_a photon checks into a hotel, the bell hop asks him “can i help you with your luggage?” to which the photon replies, “i don't have any. i'm traveling light.”_

Your friend could definitely appreciate that. He always did find jokes in these fields of study rather entertaining. Yes, Sine would’ve liked these. Sans too, you guess. If he was into the science stuff. He’d never brought up any interest in it, but you were certain he was smart enough to understand it and do one of his deep laughs. Papyrus on the other hand, well, it might have flown over his head but you still hear that familiar pitch as he admonished his brother, all the while trying not to smile. Hana and Mai would have groaned, but eventually you get them to laugh too.

Your smile faded.

The quiet domesticity you had been slowly settling into tugged at you with a strength you weren’t prepared for. You worried your index finger, nails digging into the skin above the black mark. You didn’t miss the skeletons per se. But their absence did prick at the newfound hollowness sitting inside you.

You almost wanted to bitterly laugh at the turn of events.

"You shouldn't be too concerned.” Ephemera shrugged. “It takes years for a kingdom to break down, and you were able to pass through the first gate faster than most. It won't take you years to advance through the kingdoms. Your imagination is rich, not like the others."

"Others?"

"Those who have come before and died before completing the quest."

You thought back to all the stone statues in the garden as you felt something in your stomach drop. You were almost afraid to ask. "Did you ever help any of them?"

Ephemera did not answer right away. There was a pregnant pause between your question and their reply. When they did part their lips to speak, their voice was thicker with sound, swelling with it. "No."

If there was more they wanted to say they kept it to themself, making the space between them stale and uncomfortable. Had they broken a rule in helping you or committed a taboo with their assistance? If these were levels in a game, and they did something for you that you couldn't on your own, wouldn't that be cheating?

You didn't think you liked Ephemera. You certainly disliked their fake smile, but if they had helped you against the rules, you had to be grateful. They might not be good, but it didn't look like they were bad or a source of evil.

“It’s almost too tempting to believe this is just another hallucination.” You crossed arms under your chest. “Everything feels real but it’s probably not. You’re not.”

They set the tool back down where they found it. "Then what's the harm in playing along?"

You flinched, terror, confusion and guilt surging through you. You tried not to stare at their casual body language. The lazy, fake smile suddenly seemed too wide, showed too much teeth. “The fact that it might erase any line of distinction between it.”

“I don’t see what’s so important here that we haven’t already gone over!” The raspy voice seemed to boom throughout the house. “We’ve checked this place top to bottom a hundred times and found nothing!”

At that instant, the door to the basement caved under a brutal amount of force and swung open. The handle slammed loudly against the wall without mercy, light spilling into the room. Papers fluttered into the stagnant air. You automatically cringed back against the chair discreetly.

“I-I’m certain something was set off.” Looking to the doorway, your eyes widened twofold as a towering figure stormed in, a shorter person close to their side as they clutched leaves of paper. “The cameras didn’t pick up anyone but m-maybe… this time…”

Everyone froze.

Oh, of course Ephemera was no where to be seen.

The thought that flitted through your mind, as you stared back at the monsters staring at you, fit the situation more than your state of calm panic could articulate.

‘Fuck my life.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey. betcha didn't see that coming. time to be spoopy.


	14. Unnecessary Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate worlds are pretty complicated business. Guess Sans was right to not exactly be enthusiastic when he found out the only way to get home relied entirely on you.

Monsters really were varied, weren’t they?

Built sturdily and broader than you, the piscine monster was easily pushing seven feet. Foreign musculature, weird bone structure, but inarguably a bipedal humanoid. From what you could see, steel blue scaly muscles rippled under the black tank top and cargo pants. A set of fins flared on the sides of its head. The nose was hardly existent.

Bright yellow took over the sclera of its single eye and inside laid a pointed iris that resembled a cat more than a human or fish. The other eye was covered by a shock of deep red hair mostly drawn back into a ponytail. Underneath was a blatant black eyepatch and a trickling scar beneath it.

The narrowed gaze moved from you to the desk then back to you.

Your first instinct was to stand up.

Before you were even fully out of the chair something yanked you to a standstill with whiplash suddenness. Your momentum swung you hard into the ground. Haloes of light exploded in front of your eyes. Your arms shook as you struggled to sit back up, mind whirling to figure out what was going on.

Seconds later, the taller monster had somehow managed to twist your arm behind you and pushed you back to the ground, the side of your face shoved down with a sharp knee digging in your back. It was a dream, so you shouldn't have felt anything, but there was a faint tingle that raced up your spine. The air itself seemed to vibrate with energy as next thing you registered was the low humming of the sharp tip pressed against your throat, making it difficult to breathe.

“Don’t even think about moving!” The monster growled in a voice you think might be female.

You froze.

The other monster, yellow and stout, had clambered after its friend had burst into action. It… The woman—you hazarded a guess, because why not her? It was what you’d been itching to refer to her as. And thinking “her” in your mind seemed more appropriate than calling a perfectly sentient being “it”. That train of thought was ignorant at best and dehumanizing at worst, one that would reduce them to less than a person.

Even while getting attacked, you still held a semblance of decency and respect to recognize them as people.

Damn. Your priorities were out of order.

She strode closer to you across the tiled wall of your sideways gaze. The glare from the overhead lights hid the eyes peering through the round rimmed glasses perched on its protruding, distinctly reptilian snout. The effect was alien, and completely terrifying. You boggled stupidly back, heart thudding against the ground.

“D-Do you think…?” she said slowly, higher pitched and somewhat squeaky. Her expression was unreadable, yet her posture suggested strained tension.

“Probably. We can’t risk it.” The second, raspy voice was still sitting on your back, bending your arm behind you painfully and ignoring the continual shudders of your pinned body. She sounded entirely unsympathetic. Disgusted even. As if it was your fault you had ended up here.

The stars in front of your eyes were pinwheels now, spinning crazily.

You’re so stupid.

Of course, as soon as you pass out everything fell apart. Oh god, what have you done? Nothing really, but it meant nothing right now. A small part of you lamented not trying even harder to stay awake to avoid sinking into this nightmarish situation. Why couldn't you just keep resisting sleep for one more day? Another, larger part chastised the thought, wondering if when you fell asleep even mattered.

You felt your eyes tearing up a little.

_Why did you have to be so stupid?_

The short monster dithered for a moment then snatched a radio from inside the dark green cardigan she wore, and turned it on with a crackle of static. She was saying something now and received a splash of static, then the response but you ignored it though, instead only feeling the drop in your stomach when you looked away from her. A web of similar silvery-cyan tips wavered into focus close to your face. That was a spear. These were floating spears. They were pointed at you.

Something about staring down your possible cause of death snapped you out of the numb haze that had stricken you. You struggled, sending new arcs of pain through your arms and limbs.

Your assailant’s response was to tighten her grip on your arm and apply even more pressure to the spear at your throat. It still glowed brightly with energy—magic! That was it.

You took a break from internally screaming and laid there, limp and gasping, as reality sank in. You were completely at the mercy of these two.

The short monster tucked the radio away, muttering, “W-We should take her into custody now. She looks s-stunned, this should be easy…” She stared down at you, not saying anything for a couple of seconds. “...I suppose you understand the situation then, j-judging from your expression.”

You didn't say anything. You didn't trust your voice to come out level and cause the tears to start running.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The immediate spear at your throat dissipated. The monster placed her hand on your shoulder and you flinched the barest amount before letting it rest there, drag you up to your feet and turn you towards the entrance. The next thing you knew your limbs were bound and you were tossed unceremoniously over her shoulder like a sack of rice. She smelled like saltwater and seaweed. “Let's go.”

You lapsed into your own thoughts as they walked, keeping your eyes on the ground as it shifted from tiles to concrete to carpet to pavement. You're still reeling from what just happened. 

What situation was that reptilian monster talking about? What if these monsters weren’t the nice kind like Papyrus? What if you were being carried off to be tortured? Where did Ephemera vanish off to?

Hell if you knew the answer to any of these questions. You just wanted to wake up.

You’d take Sans and Papyrus’ strange antics over whatever what was happening right now. You almost choked on a breathy laugh as that thought formed.

The good ol’ skeletons.

Somehow, despite getting assaulted, hogtied and carted off like some sort of criminal, it wasn’t the weirdest or most terrifying thing to happen to you this month. It ranked in the top five for sure, but watching the incarnations of death itself crawl out of your book in the middle of a stormy night stubbornly claimed that elusive top spot.

You were still absorbed by your racing mind by the time the monsters crossed the plaza and you neared some kind of building at the edge of the city. You didn’t get a good look at it before the monster tightened her hold on you and began to move faster, ignoring any stares and slipping inside.

It was quiet and calm, the way you remembered libraries being when your father took you to visit them on the weekends. You spied a few people passing through, but all of them had fuzzy faces you couldn't manage to squint into focus, so you ignored them. Instead you found somewhat hysterical amusement at the sight of a far too normal looking reception.

“You finally made it.” A man with a face vaguely more identifiable to you approached with a clipboard tucked under one arm.

You looked questioningly up at the newcomer only to find that your gaze was being ignored, the man seeming to be purposefully looking away from you. The uniform was what grabbed your attention. Military. Soldiers. You were in some sort of government sanctioned building then?

With a grim look, he beckoned for the monsters to follow. You were taken down a series of corridors, twisting this way and that. The place was probably built to be so confusing, it was doing its job well. You were helplessly lost. Any intruders–or even escapees–would have difficulty finding anything specific without inside knowledge. It probably meant whatever departments housed in here were positioned in strange places, however; you'd seen at least three related storage areas situated inconveniently far from each other.

At the bottom of a staircase, they were led through a corridor with various doors running along the opposite walls. A lot of them were open, much unlike upstairs where everything was closed off and out of sight.

You glanced into one of them briefly, a seed of confusion sprouting in your mind, and saw a table with various papers and handcuffs glinting in the dim light–

You snapped your gaze downwards, fast.

Shit.

Your eyes flicked towards another room much against your better judgement. The door was only slightly ajar this time but you could see a dark stain on the floor that had yet to be clean away. They stopped outside the third room you turned to look into, the man entering through the door on the other side of the wall and declaring he would return momentarily.

There were people inside that one, someone sat in the center of the room with arms restrained. A different soldier stood in front of them, face blank as they questioned them.

You felt like the walls were closing in on you, suddenly seeing a vision of yourself in the chair instead. The short monster had said something along the lines of investigation and attacks though you barely heard it, too caught up in your own thoughts of terror. It was only when the man returned with a couple folders that did you realize what was going on.

It was a threat. So cleanly executed that you had very nearly missed it.

_This will happen to you._

A shiver rolled down your spine. Eyes squeezed shut, unwilling to see more as you tried to quell your panic. Your mind struggled to overcome the overwhelming nature of the events building up.

It was possible you were overthinking this, that you were placing more importance on yourself and what was happening than was actually true.

It could be all a misunderstanding. Maybe it was just accidental that all the right doors that would allow you to see the things leading you to see this horrifying fate. A result of your own self-imposed paranoia and belief that this dream was possibly pushing you to your death. Perhaps it was coincidence the man had stopped them right outside where someone was forcibly being grilled for information. It could even be a practice drill; they wouldn't just leave the door wide open if it was an actual prisoner they were drawing information out of, would they?

But wasn't that all the more terrifying?

What felt like hours later, your eyes were driven open again, this time from being roughly deposited in a chair. You gasped, but clung to the awareness it afforded you, blinking your eyes hard. Trying to move, stretch your limbs and stand proved to be impossible: your hands were still tightly bound by rope behind your back.

You aligned your thoughts to your environment: four gray walls, a table, a pair of chairs opposite of you. The soldier that had led your captors here was sitting in one.

He looked at you, studying you silently for a moment. He wasn't smiling. Nor did he look angry or suspicious. His face was carefully unreadable. Beside him was a woman soldier, expression just as blank. On the table you could see a file, pictures of strangers neatly attached to the documents with a paperclip.

A hard knot grew in your chest. Excuses popped up in your head one by one, but they were all stupid, so you kept your mouth shut. You still didn’t know whatever this was.

This was really bad.

“Let's just get this started,” she addressed you as calmly as if you were a child who had wandered into their city, placing down a small recording device in front of her. “What is your name?”

You stammered out your name. The man jotted it down.

“Alright. I’m going to ask you a few questions. You don’t have to say anything. But, it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. "

You couldn't stop your reaction. Your head, that had been lowered so you wouldn't have to look into their eyes, snapped upwards.

What the hell?

“I’m sorry I don’t...” Chills shot up your nerves. “Am I being arrested for something?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She was still speaking to you as if you were a child, but instead of a compassion there was an edge belying the obedience she expected. “Now please answer the questions as best you can. Do realize where you are?”

“No?”

“Did you have any accomplices?”

Your mouth dropped open. “Accomplices for what?”

The soldiers glanced at each other, a look passing between them that you didn’t like.

“Please explain in your own words how you ended up in that house.” The woman said firmly.

You blinked. “Your guess is as good as mine. I have no idea. What are you talking about?”

“I am sure you must understand why are you are here but, for the sake of professionalism, I will state it.” The man demanded your attention and your gaze slipped to him, eyes wide. He didn't speak as softly as woman had to you, voice gruff and serious. Placing his clipboard carefully down onto his desk, he leant forwards and pressed his fingers together into a steeple. “You, an unregistered human, was found in the house of a monster inhabitant after somehow infiltrating this city despite the heavily armed forces and security measures guarding it. That gives us reason to suspect you have relations with the monster terrorist group.”

Your mind was spinning. _“What?”_ You blurted out without a thought. “I’m not-”

Terrorist.

The notion was so ridiculous you nearly outright laughed in their faces, your mind having almost kicked aside the fear. The thought of leaning across the table and grabbing the man to shake some sense into him was even more tempting.

Your wordless bewilderment, which could perhaps be translated as an unending string of increasingly large question marks, overrode those impulses. For a split second, you found yourself wishing you  _had_  died, because at least then you would know what was going on. You crushed that thought remorselessly. No, fuck that. You wanted to live.

The woman interrupted your state of horror, “We want to know the how, when, why, and your connection to the terrorist group responsible for the attack that occurred approximately 68 days ago.”

You'd been speaking the truth earlier. You literally had no idea. You told them as much again, truly afraid of the consequences if you didn’t.

The first round of questioning went by smooth enough. Well, as smooth as it could when the people questioning you thought you were an associate of some kind of terrorist organization despite your repeated insistence of not being a terrorist. Rather than focusing on stress, they were concentrating on interviewing techniques designed to make it harder for liars to keep their story together.

No, you weren’t involved in conspiring against monsters and the government. You didn’t know any of those people in the folders. You weren’t some super sleuth here to dig up information.

Question after question, sometimes slightly reworded, almost blurred together after an inordinate amount of time passed. Your responses are all written down in what you assumed to be a report. You watched police shows before, you knew what’s up.

Should you even be concerned as you were? They could only hold you for so long on only the basis of suspected “participation in the activity of a terrorist group”. By the time they tried to slap imaginary charges on you, you’d surely have woken up and escaped this nightmare.

Relief overcame you as soon as you remembered that. It was all okay. You’d get out of here, you reassured yourself, flexing your shaking fingers behind your back with shuddering breaths. It would be okay.

It would all be okay.

It was only a dream. An elaborate one that had to end. None of it should matter though the pain lacing your back and limbs begged to differ. But still, terrorist…

Pieces started to align and slip into place. The rough treatment made a disturbing amount of sense. If humans were doing what they do best and lashing out against what they didn’t know, then it was only natural terrorism would spring up.

No wonder you’d been detained as efficiently as you had, even if you hadn’t understood it at the time. Of course monsters would be defensive under the assumption of finding this random, possibly dangerous human within their home. They were wrong of course, but understanding the situation did little to temper your resistant fear.

A squeaky voice brought you out of the safety of your mind. “U-Um, if I may.” You looked to see both of monsters that brought you there a little bit behind them, one looking decidedly more ticked off as she stalked back and forth like a restless lioness. Were they there, watching the whole time? “I-It is a little strange she got past all the defenses but not one p-person saw her. Even then, t-the cameras and scanners should have detected her, yet only one set of scanners triggered when she entered the basement.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “What are you suggesting Dr. Alphys?”

“That t-this situation is, um, very reminiscent of when Sans and Papyrus went m-missing.”

Shit.

“Something like this happens right after those damn terrorists try to bomb us and then those two up and vanish.” The tall monster muttered, biting her thumb nail. “Who's to say the two incidents are even separate anymore? Damn it, how can this be possible?”

You forced your expression to go blank, trying to mask the horror bubbling up within you. It felt as though a rock had been lodged in your throat. You could physically feel it wrenching inside, as if you had overlooked something so massively important that the act of simply remembering it would kill you. Sadly, it did not go unnoticed.

The man stared down at you, questioning. “You recognize those names?”

You sat painfully still, horrified by your slip up. The restraints around your hands felt heavy.

“Do you recognize those names?” the woman asked again patiently, but your kept your vision fixed on the table. “They’re the occupants of the house you were found in. Almost a month ago they disappeared without a trace and no one has been able to locate them.”

Holy shit.

Somehow you found yourself unsurprised by this information. Maybe you'd been ignoring it unconsciously, ever clinging to the fact none of this was real.

A sense of calm began to wash over you, mingling with the hopelessness that refused to leave.

“Yes.” The word came out of your mouth as a whisper and most of the occupants of the room looked at you, expectantly. The last stomped around the table.

A webbed fist bunched up the front of your shirt, lifting you easily out of the chair and bringing you face to face with the other monster. Thick lips pulled back, revealing the razor sharp teeth within. “Where are they? Where have you taken them?!”

Momentarily, it was eerily easy to forget you were trapped in a dream.

You should give a reason, something believable. But what was there other than the truth, outlandish as it was? Fear crept up your spine and held a knife to your neck. If you didn't tell the truth and they didn't accept it, what would happen?

Would you be handed to an actual interrogator? Would they be ordered to force you to undergo torturous questioning, until they found the reason for why you'd lied like this?

Terror squeezed your lungs at the thought. You hardly noticed the falter in your breathing as it turned to gasps, quick and fast, every beat of your heart pumping panic through your body or the demands for the monster to drop you.

Tears teetered on the edges of your eyes and your head was blank, white noise blaring in your ears. Say it. Say something. Do it, do it, doitdoitdoit.

“My house.” Your voice was a choking mess, air barely making it to your lungs. “They appeared in my living room. Out of my book and- and I was so terrified because monsters don’t exist where I come from. Magic isn’t a thing. They were as confused as I was. Then Sans reasoned they had been dragged out of their world into mine and they’ve just been living at my house. And then I woke up in that house and I realized I’m still not awake and it’s just- I don’t what’s going on or even know where I am and I was dragged here and now I’m being questioned and told I’m a terrorist for no fucking reason other than waking up in a goddamn house!”

You took a gasping, angry breath, tears running down your cheeks in big, wet droplets. The silence that followed your messy flood of words only made it worse and you ached to wipe your face with your arm.

“What  _I_  know,” came a new voice, “is that we all need to calm down.”

It was unfamiliar, but more amiable than anything you’d encountered thus far.

You looked to see a new monster just barely standing in the doorway, regarding the scene with serious eyes. From what you could see, they were covered from head to toe in silky, white fur, and they had two blunted horns on the top of their vaguely feminine, bovine head. Thick, floppy ears. Big, expressive mahogany eyes, and a mouth that was pressed into a thin line. When the monster holding you made no move to stand down, the new monster’s irises flashed red. “ _Now, Undyne_.”

The fish monster’s—Undyne, you guess—body relaxed from her stance seemingly against her will and her grip loosened. The seat of the chair met your back with a resounding thud and another faint tingle of pain radiated across it but you didn’t care.

“Why don't we all handle this in a nonviolent manner?” The monster suggested mildly as she stepped into the room. Her voice was still firm with authority although it was a little slower now, softer. _Like melted chocolate and brown sugar_ , you thought irrationally. “Then she can explain very slowly and in great detail  _exactly_  what is going on here.”

No one raised any objections—but then, you weren't so sure anyone was  _capable_  of arguing against those red eyes.

She turned to you. “Please try to remain calm. I promise that no harm will come to you.”

And explain you did.

You started from the beginning, and settled into a long explanation. Finding the book, meeting the skeletons after they were pulled into your universe, your nightmares. How you wound up here specifically. You had ample opportunity to recount the events over the past month; being stuck in a holding room with bound limbs ensured that.

Undyne's single eye started twitching in disbelief two minutes in.

You excluded the terminology about kingdoms and the like, content to let your nightmares take center stage with talk about games shoved to the back.

You also slipped on one or two things, such as the fact you considered most of this world and its people as constructs of a dream. Katherine and Ephemera too, but you wanted to question them yourself a bit more before dragging magical humans and dust children into this mess. Just random magic books and nightmares for now.

There was a long pause as the others seemed to process this. Maybe they were still struggling to wrap their heads around the whole alternate worlds business. That and the small detail that you had passed out and woke up in this world (which maybe reflected what was going on in Sans and Papyrus’ universe)?

Technically the dream world thing was true, but what were you going to do, tell them you thought none of them were real? That freaking mages, the same type of people that had sealed them underneath a mountain, were partly responsible for the disappearance of their friends and violated the universe for shits and giggles?

“Oh…” Alphys wore an expression that had grown more nervous as you went on.

“I’ve spent years working this job but that was the most out there explanation for a missing person’s case I have ever heard,” the male soldier said in a low voice. He seemed...tired as he leant back in his chair. You weren’t certain, his face was still blurred out for the most part.

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose and blew out a long suffering sigh. “Magic," she grumbled, just as quietly and intensely. “I would almost rather it be terrorists…”

You wondered whether they felt awkward. You sure as hell did. Tearing up in front of military officials, even if they were imaginary, wasn't something you'd particularly planned on doing, ever.

The soldier lowered her hand and faced the bovine monster with deference. “Queen Toriel, we have no way of confirming the veracity of her claims, and if this book business is _somehow_ the case, we would have no way of knowing the extent this could affect the residents here.”

 _Queen?_ No wonder she held herself so…elegantly in spite of the casual purple dress adorning her form. In the back of your mind a sense of embarrassment wriggled forth at how violently you had reacted.

“Alphys, what do you make of this?” Toriel inquired, voice layered with guarded concern.

“I don't k-know,” Alphys admitted, wringing her hands. “Uhm, it’s definitely possible. Th-theoretically, I mean. We have nothing else to go off of, and it c-could begin to explain why none of the security systems were triggered.”

Toriel turned her thoughtful stare on you, hands folded. You had to force yourself not to break eye-contact with her. Her fingers fidgeted a bit as she visibly considered how to deal with your situation, before nodding to herself in thought and inclining her head toward the female soldier, who nodded and began untying your ropes. “We are going to take your word for it for the time being and place a margin of trust your words, but you need to listen to us in return, alright?”

“Sure,” you said cautiously. “Does that mean you're going tell me what you guys think is going on?”

“We don't really know what's happening, but yes,” Alphys started, just as the soldier finished untying you.

You wiped your face, as though it could banish all evidence of you having cried. At least there weren't many people you had to feel conscious of seeing your tear-stained face.

“The existence of the quantum multiverse and the many-worlds interpretation has been heavily debated. The primary assertion of the multiverse theory is that all of existence is composed of a quantum superposition of an uncountably large—or even infinite—number of universes.”

The longer she spoke the more it appeared she was talking to herself more than the rest of you this time. “Magic usually adheres to its own set of rules that sometimes defies conventional perception of reality. Especially the type human mages were said to be able to wield when they were still around. Whatever type that’s involved in this one falls more under the umbrella of theoretical applications of m-magic, physics, and astrophysics. Most notably the manipulation of quantum mechanics through magic which is, uh, more of Sans’ thing. He may have brushed up on these topics when… he had been studying closed timelike curves and c-causality violation…”

The regal monster’s face softened. “And our friend is absent at the moment.”

“So how do find this human’s universe and drag those two lazybones back here?” Undyne's voice sharply penetrated through the silence that followed, louder than Alphys' or Toriel’s voice. In fact, reminded you a little of Papyrus' loud voice. Your hands shook at the memory.

Alphys adjusted her glasses, frowning. “W-well, it's. Well. It's a little bit complicated… other worlds of quantum mechanics would not reside in our space as we normally think about it. There would be another world, a-another version of this place, that would not overlap with it in any s-spatiotemporal sense. It's not as though there's a higher dimensional geometry within which all of the quantum worlds exist. Instead, each of these worlds is a mathematical entity that lives in a more abstract mathematical state, and we're all inhabitants of that more abstract mathematical space.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, causing you to replay the words several times in your head.

“...What?” You eventually asked, taking in the intrigued or equally baffled expressions on the faces of the people around you.

“If this interpretation of existence is true, then there must be an absolutely astounding number of alternate worlds. It would be insanely difficult t-to go about locating another universe at all, much less finding yours specifically in a near infinite number of alternate realities.”

Undyne's face bordered that of bewilderment at this revelation. “So what, we’re stuck?”

You moved to rub at your chafed wrists. “I wouldn’t think that yet. Apparently, there is only one way to make everything back to normal.”

“Why didn’t you say so then, punk?!” she snapped, her red ponytail swishing in a stream behind her as she whirled on you.

“I was more concerned with the spears in my face and worrying about conviction over a terrorist offence,” you muttered, shooting a look off to the side and chewing on your cheek.

Undyne squinted, but Toriel butted in–ha–before she could hiss back a response or maybe chomp your hand off with those snarling teeth. “Please continue.”

“I have to fulfill objectives, or something. One of them is in this city, which could be why I woke up here.” Your shoulders lifted in a half hearted shrug. “Got no clue as to what though.”

Alternate worlds are pretty complicated business. Guess Sans was right to not exactly be enthusiastic when he found out the only way to get home relied entirely on you.

Toriel thought for a moment before replying. “Since we are unsure whether or not this is an elaborate ploy, you are going to have to be placed under the watch of the Royal Guard and stay out of sight for a while. You do understand that, right?” she leveled her gaze at you. “The only way we can remain convinced you are not an enemy is to have your cooperation.”

You were thrown by how serious she sounded suddenly. “I… I understand.”

“She'll have to stay in the city until we figure out something else. There's too much to do with the cleanup and preparations to figure out a plan right now,” she said in a clipped voice to the others. “I think for the time being we need to keep it to ourselves that she's here, even within the city. I don't think it would be entirely unbelievable to anyone at this point but the less people know, the better. If it does turn out to be true, though…" She frowned. "We'll have no choice but to tell Asgore and some of the other residents, at least. The government wouldn't appreciate it if they found out we were hiding something like this. For now, we have some leeway because we don't know exactly what is going on."

“...I can place someone from the Canine Unit to watch over her.” Undyne sighed. “They would be willing to take the job. Would Greater Dog work?”

You let the little detail that they were sorting out your fate, right in front of you, fade to the back of your mind. Really, you were content to. Less for you to worry about.

Toriel had promised no harm would befall you. You hardly put stock into promises but you didn't know if there was anything that could possibly be as reassuring as that fact. Who would argue with a queen? As far as anyone was concerned her word should be law, right?

Still. There was fear that couldn't be erased even by that.

You doubted it would ever disappear, even if you managed to get through whatever might be coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Uh, small note why chapters may be a little more infrequent at the very end of the post over [here](https://myosctis.tumblr.com/post/166465162126/i-just-remembered-a-comment-on-the-last-chapter). Now if there's any questions, don't hesitate to ask over at my tumblr. I'm more than happy to reply.


	15. Undertale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This stuff is reserved for main characters.

You found it hard to focus as the door pushed open and you walked gingerly down the hall behind Undyne. Breathe. Shallowly, quietly. Look natural.

There was nothing dingy or rusted about this particular place. You were actually struggling to not squint from the glare of the impeccably waxed floor as you found yourself back in the lobby. You could see walkthrough scanners, technicians with handheld devices, soldiers and monsters ferrying around papers, talking among themselves or attending to menial tasks. Aside from that, it wasn't all that different from a high-security airport screening.

You noticed one or two soldiers and monsters glanced up at you from their work, possibly out of curiosity; you decided that smiling would be pushing it and settled on trying to look bored. Like what happened that led you to being here was an everyday occurrence.

You weren’t sure exactly how much was known about you among the rest of them beyond the odd way you’d entered; they didn't seem suspicious of you, but you couldn't take chances. You wanted to blend into the wall, let your monster escort handle the attention if you garnered any.

The queen seemed content to let you to be held in the house you were found in, provided you remained under certain restrictions. You’d always have a member of the Royal Guard within the immediate vicinity to supervise you. You had to be wearing this weird bracelet device to keep tabs on your location. And you’d need to sit through a check up of sorts, as you hadn’t arrived under the best conditions.

Alphys agreed to do it with the assistance of another human doctor, but otherwise Undyne was adamant on her not being around you. Just in case you did happen to be some anti-monster terrorist.

The last one made you a bit uneasy, but you were more than happy to oblige, willing to agree to anything to leave.

You spent what felt like ages in that room. Or you thought so. Even after being tied to a chair and subsequently pleading your case for what must have been hours, you were unsure of the amount of time you spent in that room. There’d been no windows. You never felt hungry or thirsty or a need for the bathroom. There was nothing to mark the passage of time.

The clerk at the desk waved you in. You checked through the paperwork and forms you’d been made to fill out one last time. After all the hoops you had to jump through to get out of here, you didn't want any delays over some minor mistake. At Undyne’s impatient huff you handed the papers over to the man behind the desk; he gave it a desultory glance before stamping it and tossing it into a file.

You followed Undyne out of the building and into the cool air of a spring night. You fidgeted with your index finger, trying not to be too obvious about soaking up as much of your surroundings as possible you passed them.

Behind you the building you just exited seemed to serve as some kind of gatehouse. Perhaps the only entrance to the town. That explained the airport vibe you’d been receiving. Following that, surprisingly was the 1950’s plaza you had spotted earlier when you dared to sneak a peek out the windows of the house. Due to the angle of the windows, the lakes running adjacent to the gatehouse and the plaza that the waterways drained into were easily missed. The waterway system stretched deep into the town, far beyond your line of view, but down the branching off streets there seemed to be all manner of housing. Single homes, semi-detached homes, and apartment complexes. The waterways themselves were larger than you expected, the canals sometimes cutting straight down the center of the street, and other times set how you’d seen them on either side of the street.

Undyne led the way down one street lined with houses, passing the clock tower and a park. Varying shops seemed interspersed throughout the area aside from the plaza’s. The same steady flow of monsters and military personnel going about their business from this morning was present.

A few houses in, Undyne abruptly veered right up to one of them. Bigger than you expected, the two-story semi-detached building sat in the center of a comparatively spacious lot. The opened gate led up to it, lined on each side by the most beautiful garden you had ever seen. Something about it screamed… _something_ , and standing here you somehow felt more out of place than you already did.

You sent an anxious glance at the rolling forest beyond the barricade surrounding the town. Somewhere beyond the laid the Marble Gardens. More importantly somewhere in this gated monster town was your ticket out of this dream.

How would you go about finding it though?

You sighed and stepped through the door on the left-hand side, closing out the cool air. It was out of your hands. All that was left now was to wait through this incarceration first. With that in mind you took a seat on the couch.

In the vacuum of creeping boredom, curiosity prompted your mouth to tentatively open, “You’re Papyrus’ friend, right?”

“Yeah,” Undyne snorted. “What of it?”

Instead of studiously avoiding the suspicious glare trained on you like your instincts demanded of you, you meet her gaze head on. Something about that little tidbit raised an alarm, your skin prickling in discomfort. Thank goodness you don’t have to bear that for long. A sharp bark from the entrance had the two of you turning towards the door.

You’re hard pressed to keep a blank expression as your newest guard lumbered into view. Whatever you had expected, this wasn't it.

Greater Dog was the literal embodiment of his name. A massive bipedal dog wielding a tall spear. Contrary to his menacing height, his enthusiastic visage was the picture of doggy joy as he nearly bowled over Undyne in greeting.

She slapped him on the back, grin all sharp teeth. “Hey GD! Here to keep an eye on this human eh, buddy?!”

As you watched the exchange you couldn't help but be stunned by the sight of the monster. From the head sprouting out of the equally large steel plated set of armor, you likened him to the normal breed of Pomeranian dogs.

You’ve heard of really tall dogs before, but this was insane. He rivalled Undyne in height, who was shorter than Toriel, but you were pretty sure she was still taller than Papyrus, who in turn towered over you. God, monsters were tall. The heck was wrong with Sans then? Why was he such a tiny bean? Luckily the inside of the house was spacious enough for them to move comfortably and they didn’t have to duck with the lofty ceilings in this place.

But you were not left alone to gawk for long, blinking as Undyne wasted no time making her exit. The door slammed behind her, causing you to wince at the loud sound. Guess she was more than confident in Greater Dog’s ability to keep you in line.

Speaking of which, you side eyed the monster watching you with the typical friendly caution of a dog towards a stranger. His ears perked up at your attention but nothing else happened.

You shrugged and roved your eyes over the living room. The couch and coffee table were still there, in front of a TV. Oddly enough the door tucked by the stairs refused to budge. The real thing of interest to you was the table.

Stopping in front of it, various items scattered across its surface. Knickknacks, mostly. Reading material varied from children's books to longer, more complicated novels, and puzzle-activity collections. You'd considered reading through some of them, but... they weren't yours, and you didn't want to be rude by picking through everything like that. You'd yet to so much as look inside the closets. Right now, instinct had everything on a "look-don't-touch" basis.

Well, asides from the couch. And things in the basement. But that was kind of a given, considering.

One however laid on its spine, opened to a random page. That one was okay to peek at, right?

You flipped through it. Most of the pages were a mess of gibberish you couldn't decipher, but then halfway through the words began to run into place until they formed coherent sentences.

‘The human body is less than-

the drug know-

the American Drug Association legalized the sale of-’

You recognized the text right away as your pharmacy medicine textbook you had been reading recently. So you were able to read some things while inside the dream world.

You flicked to the end but found the page filled with the same words. Only the first through fourth chapters, the ones you finished reading, could be picked out in all the pages you tried. Sighing, you slid the book back into place hand brushing against the colorful bottle set down near the middle of the table. There, on a little plate next to it, sat a rock covered in sprinkles.

It seemed standoffish.

So, this was Sans and Papyrus’ home on the surface. Without the veil of sleep or panic tinting your perception it was nice, you noted as you stepped back to take it in again. You had to admit, with the way those two handled themselves you were expecting a perfect storm of sorts. For all you knew, that might still be the case elsewhere in the house.

Well as long as you were under dream house arrest you might as figure out what was where, right?

You turned to be met with the sight of Greater Dog blocking the path to the kitchen and stairs. You rose a brow and stepped around him. Or you tried to. To your quiet dismay, he moved to sit in front of you, tail thumping against the ground.

You didn’t know what he wanted from you. It’s not as though you were the most familiar person with dogs, and having never owned one yourself your knowledge on this matter was sorely lacking. Monster dogs were an entirely different ballgame. Thanks to Greater Dog’s large and intimidating figure, you suspected him snapping you in half could come about criminally easily if he ever decided you were some kind of threat.

But still, what if you-

You barely lifted your hand and he got excited, tongue flapping out around his jowls. Tentatively, you reached out and he lowered his head to meet your hand. You petted the dog. He pawed at the ground, tail wagging faster and faster.

The fluffy fur around his neck was so soft, you swore your hand was actually being absorbed by a cloud.

At some point you found yourself back on the couch trapped underneath the monster, armor and all. Greater Dog was utterly content to laze about on your lap, vibrating whenever you gave into absently ruffling the fur on his head. His spear was discarded on the floor. It was when he dozed off, eyes drooping, that you saw the figure over his shoulder.

Ephemera stood by the stairs with a hand braced on either side, leisurely tracing their fingers down the railings on either side of them. They looked up when they felt your gaze on them and then jutted their chin out and turned on their heel, disappearing from view.

You sighed, edging out from under the mountain of fur and steel and heading up the stairs after Ephemera.

Greater Dog shifted slightly, but you couldn't hear it well enough to know exactly if he was awake or not. Either way, it didn't matter to you. He was a dream so he wouldn't mind or miss you like a normal person would. Whatever it was wasn't important.

You found Ephemera after traipsing through a room full of figurines, leaning over the railing from the balcony and looking down at the outside world. They reached out and touched the glass until it fell away like petals on a dead flower. Inclining their head, they reached out their hand.

“Shall we?”

You kept your hands to yourself, fisting them at your sides. “I have questions for you.”

Ephemera reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you out and floating you down. The world rippled around you and then washed back into focus with a snap. Ephemera made a noise under their breath and held their hand up. “I can't do that for very long.”

“I don't care what you did. I'm stuck here so there's no use in arguing it. How do I get to the next level?”

“Gate-you want to advance to the next gate.”

You felt like rolling your eyes but resisted the impulse. “You helped me the last time, at least give me a clue. What am I doing here?”

You saw them flinch and look away before covering their emotions up with a fake smile once again. “You can not speak of what I did in the Marble Gardens. What I did was an unforgivable breach of the laws that hold up this world. I can guide you, but I am forbidden from directly altering your outcome.”

You huffed sharply, feeling your ire grow beyond your control. The logical side of your mind told you that you shouldn't be upset with Ephemera for not being able to help and just be thankful for what they were able to do and not push it. But you were annoyed and the logic of the situation was becoming harder to see.

“Then please guide me now,” you bit out between your teeth. “You can start with explaining why I can't see the faces of some people here, while others are as clear as day.”

Ephemera offered you their arm to take, but when you didn't move they dropped it and began to walk leisurely down the sidewalk, pausing only once to glance back and make sure you were following him. You were, but your steps were measured and guarded.

They slowed down their walk until you could draw up even with them. Once you were at their side they pointed off to a couple of faceless individuals.

“Some of them are people your own mind has generated to fill the gaps this kingdom with. The reason you can't see them clearly at all is because they came from you, yet they will always seamlessly integrate their presence into the world like you. Another case where you may have trouble seeing faces of people, but they may have a few more visible features, do not come from you. They’re the ones woven into this kingdom’s situation specifically but serve no greater purpose to you. They account for the majority of the kingdom’s residents. On the other hand…”

Ephemera pointed behind you. At the far end of the street, standing directly across from the public library, was Toriel. Her face was perfectly clear and not distorted by fog in the least. She appeared to be discussing something, given the group of monsters and humans crowding around her. “There are those who exist outside of your own mind and are very distinct. They come directly from the Book and are referred to as Actors.”

You nodded, feeling like the explanation made sense. “They're important to the plot of this level of the game.”

“That is…one way to think of it as. The monsters you had spoken with are pivotal to this particular kingdom. They will important in the progression of the narrative. Actors will naturally be drawn to the Appointed Owner of the tome and seek him or her out, wherever they may be. It's only natural, on some level their world revolves around you now.”

You exhaled loudly. “That's not healthy.”

“But it's happening.” Ephemera stopped to turn back and stare at you in the eye. “Like it or not, these are the things that are happening. You will come here night after night. You will see things you wish you hadn't, and bear the consequences for it.” They nodded at the device on your wrist. You glanced at it, the small blinking green light indented into the metal was dull but still active.

“Fine, I understand. If there was a way I could get myself out of this commitment I'd take it, but until then I'll deal with this world your way. So, tell me what I have to do. What is the objective in this level? How do I leave?”

“Traditionally the Kingdom or Gate is passed through when the Appointed finds the Tome. It can take on different forms but it always has the same, unique feeling to distinguish it from the rest. In this particular world, the Tome will not appear until specific requirements have been met.”

“Let me guess, it has something to do with those monsters and this place?”

“The monsters are fighting for the right to live peacefully on the surface. Aside from the monsters you met earlier, there are soldiers and opposing forces in terrorism and racism. I don't know the details because this kingdom appears to be different every time a new owner is appointed, but the basic idea is always the same on the Surface.”

“Then where do I start?”

“You've already started.”

The urge to tear your hair out grew, but you squashed the desire before such actions could manifest. Talking to Ephemera was frustrating in more ways than one. Aside from what they spoke of and what actually came out of their mouth, there was something off about them that unsettled you.

“Tell me what to do next, then.”

“I can't give you explicit details, but I can show you how to manipulate yourself in this world. One thing that will help you will be the ability to conceal your presence from the actors or alter your appearance.”

You glanced over to the side to catch your appearance in the shop window. Your reflection was present, but you still didn’t feel…all there. “I can do that?”

“It's a straightforward process. Simply imagine the change and it will occur. Believe it will happen and it will.”

You turned to face the window more clearly and spread your arms out, fingertips stretched and splayed. You imagined your clothes dissolving into something black and studded with gold accents. The change came about so suddenly you thought you missed it at first when you blinked. One moment you were in the dress from before, and in the next you were clothed in a little black number with gold shoulders accented and studs all the way down the sleeves. Then you thought of Sailor Moon's Sailor suit and a second later you were decked out in ass kicking red boots and the altered sailor school girl uniform. And then you thought back to skinny jeans and a comfortable black t-shirt loose enough to breathe in but fitted.

“That's all it takes?” you asked with a laugh turning around to see the back of yourself in the window. The bracelet from Alphys was never missing, but you figured that was for the best.

Ephemera nodded, not showing any other emotion on their face. “Now try concealing yourself.”

You looked back to the window and thought about what it would feel like to bend light around you, shifting from visible to invisible. It was an interesting idea, but it was difficult to conceptualize in comparison to your sailor scout uniform. You had never been invisible before, so while it was easier to imagine, you didn't feel confident in the idea.

“You have to believe in it,” Ephemera said.

“I know that,” you almost bit out. Hissing to yourself you shook your head and glanced back at Ephemera. “Sorry. I'll try again.”

Not waiting for their reply, you closed your eyes and thought of the world around you without you in it, but still being in it. What did it feel like in your earlier years? You were practically invisible then if trouble didn’t seek you out. It wasn't easy to blend in with the wallpaper, but you had been good at it. You’d been very good at it.

When you opened your eyes again you weren't in the window's reflection anymore, and when you looked down at your hands they shimmered in a near see through manner. You looked to Ephemera for approval. “Is that it?”

They nodded. “You should put it to use at some point. Talking to those two from before will help you realize the stakes a bit better. They're coming out of the gatehouse now.”

You turned to see what Ephemera was talking about and saw nothing. When you turned back to ask them about it you found yourself alone. Cursing slightly, you turned on your heel back the way you came.

You were prepared to walk until you saw anything. That was one of the perks with being trapped in a dream world; you never got tired of walking. When awake, for the longest time it had been arguably one of your least favorite things to do. But you’d left the house for too long, and whatever Ephemera did to your bracelet probably wouldn’t last forever.

It took a while to retrace the exact steps, but the place was so big to navigate without someone with knowledge of the area. By the time you slipped back into the house, the light of dawn began to crest over the trees. With a frustrated sigh, you moved to the other couch lacking any dogs and plopped onto your back.

Walking around alone to even look for the Tome was going to be hard. Getting out of here seemed a lifetime’s goal away.

You’d been thinking on it for a good while now, but this task was difficult. Roaming the city would have been ideal, as no one would think twice about a non-threatening human going about her day. Maybe you could even pass as a soldier off duty. You couldn't risk getting caught though, and finding you wandering carelessly, without supervision or the proper identification you noted some humans having, would certainly garter interest. You also couldn't leave the city for obvious reasons.

In truth, there was no easy solution to the problem, because not a single foolproof place existed in the city. There were guards everywhere, and you weren't stupid enough to trust the civilians either.

That left you with Actors. Undyne probably hated your guts, Toriel felt like a person who already had a lot on her plate with being a Queen, but maybe you could talk to Alphys?

At some point you must have nodded off, because next thing you knew, the sun was farther along in the sky than it really had any right to be and you were roused out of your doze. The veil of sleep lifted in an unnatural and slow manner, filled with disgruntled murmurs and lots of shifting around.

Why were you awake in the first place? If the groggy weight in your bones was anything to go by, you could have used a few more hours of sleep.

Something was tapping your arm. Your visible arm.

Blinking the grogginess away, you looked to your right and eyed at the hand in mid tap. As it retracted, your gaze followed, and rather than a large playful dog itching for more pets you found a man in a lab coat. He had a clearer face, to the point where you could make out a few features such as eyes and hair and his expressions. It wasn’t nearly on the level of clarity that any of the monster Actors.

To your great displeasure, he stared unabashedly, letting the silence stretch and sporting a bored expression that seems to contrast with the gleam in his eyes.

You waited for him to start talking, explain himself but the man stayed silent and when it grew uncomfortably long you were left with no choice but to break it. “Can I help you?” you asked bluntly.

The man raises a brow and sighed. “You're the patient the queen requested a checkup for, yes?”

_Patient?_

There was a muffled, clattering sound in the kitchen as a person inside adjusted some sort of item. You sat up, mourning the loss of your peace and quiet just as Alphys, in all her nerdy glory, entered the room and continued setting up some kind of retractable stand.

Wow, okay. How many people entered in this house while you were asleep? You guessed Greater Dog up and vanished, given his absence as your eyes darted to the depressed but empty space on the other couch.

Two large, black duffle bags rested against the wall. One had been hastily (but methodically) stuffed with various items. You caught sight of a few bottles – some filled with liquid and others with small pills – an array of different 'scopes for examining the body, and... what  _was_  that thing? It looked like a long, rectangular handheld game device.

Your eyes warily snapped back to her, and you tried to scoot a little to the side, never mind the fact that your back was already pressed flush against the arm of the couch.

Trapped between the doctors, you began to understand how cornered animals felt, backed into a safe spot just beyond the claws' reach of a predator. Alphys’ eyes met yours (they were brown – you hadn’t noticed that before) and for a moment, you could have sworn you saw... understanding?

“What’s this about a check up?” The question left your lips before you'd even had time to process it. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to be…” Alphys' face took on a look of faint surprise, and yet it was as if she had almost been... expecting it? The question, you meant. Or one along the same lines as it.

She fiddled with her hands. “Well, remember t-the Queen did want someone to look you over? But, um, I understand why you m-might be taken by surprise. We did j-just show up without warning.”

She trailed off and winced, giving you the most tentative, nervous smile you think you’ve ever seen as how you must feel registered. You wanted to wince at the second-hand anxiety budding within your chest, but you blinked a bit and nodded instead.

“I-I’m Dr. Alphys, but you already know that. Erm…I figured since y-you've been in this house you’d have you check up here... I wanted to move you to the Lab, s-since... all my, um... my equipment is there, but... the Queen insisted on you keeping a very low p-profile. So, um... s-so you've been... here. Resting. A-and I've been here. Trying to set up the right things...”

There was an awkward pause, with neither of you speaking, and you avoiding eye-contact with the monster.

When Alphys eventually excused herself, and scampered off to finish setting up her half of the examination, the other doctor in the lab coat introduced himself as Dr. Nao. Apparently, he was there to handle the human centric side of this…appointment. And he promptly did so.

The check up went without incident. You dutifully followed the doctor’s instructions and had your breathing, throat, and reflexes examined. A little later, you even went through some other boring procedures like getting your eyesight tested and blood-pressure measured.

“I have good news for you. You are indeed in good health,” the doctor spoke easily, pushing his glasses upwards a bit before reaching out for a few small papers intended for prescriptions, “The few worries I have is because of the slight strain of your eyes, the delayed reaction from your reflexes, in junction with the fatigue and malaise you described having. These are common symptoms of sleep deprivation. I can only recommend that you continue to get more sleep and the problem should go away shortly as you seem to generally be in good health...”

Oh, if only he knew.

You tuned him out as the paper notes got filled and you accepted the prescriptions with no intention of ever buying anything. Grudgingly, you bid goodbye to the doctor as he packed up his things and he took his leave.

One down. One to go.

Alphys had been busy. The books and items on the table were cleared off, leaving room for the small cluster of machines hooked up to a laptop, computer terminal and a monitor. Only the monitor faced you. She connected the last of the wires and plugs of the systems quickly with ease. How she managed to get something like those over here in that bag alone was beyond you.

Inspecting the monster, you had to admit there was a familiar feeling to her; eerily so. There was nothing outstanding, aside from the air of nervous intelligence, and that's when it hit you.

“You were the Royal Scientist in the Underground, weren’t you?”

She flinched. The clipboard clutched between her hands fumbled for a moment before in her clawed grip reasserted itself, “H-How do you know about t-that?”

“The book.”

Alphys sent you a look, silently asking you to explain.

“I felt like I had seen you, Undyne, and Toriel before. I was wondering where and how that was possible, seeing as we’ve never met but I just remembered you were one of the profiles in the book.”

Her expression slipped, voice hollow with confusion and shock, “P-Profiles?”

You rubbed at your neck and closed your eyes, exhaling a sigh. “Like a monster guide of sorts with information about each entry in it. Yours was one of the few full-page spreads.”

Alphys made an uncomfortable sound that drew your attention. That didn't... sound very good. “What kind of information?”

“A picture. Little details about yourself. This weird Check thing. Things like that.” You opened your eyes and glanced at the monster. It's enough to see the dawning comprehension and surprise on her face. “It mentioned your position and how you got it. Designing a robot body, I think. He was another monster. Mettaton, maybe? The profile then said you were tasked with working on a way on how to break the barrier. And that’s…”

The more you spoke the more Alphys’ face twisted with a hint of mounting horror and dread. Your next sentence died in your throat as her scales transitioned from their bright sheen to a slightly paler shade.

Oh, what now? Did you say something wrong?

“That, uh… Is that not a good thing?” You quickly backtracked on your words and injected as much cheer into your voice as possible, even throwing in a smile for good measure. “Monsters are on the Surface now, so you figured out a way and succeeded in the end, right? I bet it took some genius to pull that off.”

“Oh-uh-right!” She twirled a wrist, searching for the right words. “That’s all it said?”

You rose a brow. “Generally. It’s not detailing your life story or anything. It mostly covered very basic stuff.”

She sighed, her expression shifting into one of mingling strain and relief as her scaled reverted from their pastel yellow coloring. You're a bit confused by her reaction, though. Didn't she break the barrier for them?

Why was she so fidgety about her job then?

Alphys hadn’t refuted any of what you said, but seemed far more concerned with the information about herself rather than the barrier itself. The one that had locked away her kind for centuries, perhaps millennia. One would think a person would take considerable pride in achieving such a feat. So how did she do that?

Something didn't add up here.

Alphys grabbed a thing off the table and sat down on the adjacent couch a few feet away, crossing her legs and setting her hands in her lap. You eyed what she held. It was that weird... whatever-it-was you’d spotted in her bag. Large and rectangular, it was like a thick tablet the length of your forearm. A screen took up the device's center, with a few buttons placed symmetrically on either side of it. A long wire spiraled out of the top, attached to the defibrillator like machine on the coffee table, and subsequently the other computer monitors.

You stared at her, uncomprehending. She forced an uneasy smile.

“We know that h-humans have many conflicting ideas on this, but do you know anything about s-souls?”

Your innate skepticism threatened to make itself known, but you regarded her quietly as you swept through your recollections of the past month. A dim, fuzzy outline of a memory began to take form. “Sans briefly mentioned it weeks ago, the day after he showed up. Otherwise I know nothing.”

“Nothing?”

You shrugged. “Up until now I wasn’t even sure if they were real. But after having magical skeletons popping into existence in my house and finding myself ending up here you could call me a believer of anything right now.”

Alphys sighed again, and scrunched her nose a little in thought. Admittedly, it was a cute expression. “And he didn’t explain a-anything about them, right?”

“Nope,” you answered. "Is that a problem?”

“No, no," she reassured, sliding you a thick booklet. You parsed through the first couple pages. A syllabus on souls? “That's perfect. Can you r-read this over? I-I need to know if you understand this without having any k-kind of background.”

What that led to was a lot of revision, expanding and adding more and more depth and clarifications. Her opening statement turned from effectively ‘souls, let's go’ to a whole page of 'what _are_ souls, even’.

There were points where your eyes started to glaze over and while she was trying to keep it as straightforward as possible, depth and simplicity weren't synonyms. You understood the gist of the basics though. Eventually, she got to the point of the check up. Looking over your soul, seeing if any damage had accidentally happened to it.

“I-It's a machine used to scan and monitor the soul without having to fully summon it from the individual. So, there isn't as much s-stress put on the person. With some adjustments an image of their soul will be formed, while the device measures its vitals.”

Following Alphys’ instructions, you stuck the adhesive pad to the center of your chest and she flipped one of the switches along the left side of the device. A line cast across the monitor screen, pulsing to an unheard beat.

“It... th-this meter was designed for monsters, w-which is why some data will be m-missing. There's not nearly as much magic in a human to a-account for accurate measurements. But after some adjustments I’ve been able to get a standard reading in the case of human souls. Everything should be just f-fine.” Alphys set the device down and took a deep, steadying breath. “Are you ready?”

You nodded.

With her arm in front of her, and her palm angled down and facing her body, Alphys made a slight motion back towards herself with her whole hand. Your surroundings looked…duller in a sense. As though a tinted filter overlaid everything and the color had been washed out from the world, a slight haze clouding the edges of your sight. Was that just your eyes or was your brain playing mind tricks again?

Alphys reached forward to let her claws clack against the laptop’s keyboard then noted something down on her clipboard. She returned attention to the device. Her fingers tapped at a few buttons, and the wavelength minimized, moving to the top left-hand corner of the machine's monitor.

She stared at whatever she saw on her laptop with great concentration, gaze occasionally flicking toward the terminal. Her fingers carefully turned a dial next to where the wire ran from.

The next few minutes were silent, until whatever Alphys been tampering with apparently began to work. Long lines of data scrolled past, quickly filling up the blank space. A small box of text to the left of the display, underneath the wavelength. The abbreviations "LV", "ATK", "DEF", and "HP" were the only thing you could make out, respectively lined up in a column.

The space between her brows creased as she turned the dial again. She blinked hard, as if doing so would allow understanding to dawn upon her. The scientist made another confused sound. “I-I don't understand it...”

There was a twitch of surprise when you spoke up after the third time she readjusted her equipment. “What’s wrong? Did my soul somehow break the machine?”

Stiffly, Alphys looked at you, then glanced back to the device. 

“By all accounts it doesn’t seem there’s, uh, anything out of the ordinary in t-terms of structure for yours. Your saturation is high, and you haven’t had any radical shifts in it lately. The energy baseline is normal. You have a solid hue, I think. The diagrams generated from trait percentage calculations are s-supposed to be indicative of the primary facet of your soul. However, they seem to be a little… w-wonky.”

“My soul isn’t black, or white, or clear or-or rainbow colored, is it?” you asked, with a twitch of a grimace at the corner of your lips. 

“W-What? No! A human soul has never been recorded to be white like a monsters’ or have those impossible colors.”

“God, I hope not. I’d rather not be told that all along I had this super special, never before seen soul color and I’m only being made aware of it now. That stuff is reserved for main characters.”

“Your soul looks like it should align perfectly with the human trait color spectrum. It’s j-just that the diagram won’t properly display? Like it’s… it’s not all there. I-I didn't really believe it at first but nothing’s interfering with the machine. I’ve been rescanning and rescanning, and they’re n-not changing. So, based on these numbers I can only make an educated guess. They’re very odd though and-”

There was an odd smile, and it felt as if Alphys was looking through you.

“W-well, you're not a monster, are you? Humans... they're not made up of magic; that's where Determination falls into play... A-and, well... You appear to be a very determined person. Your levels of Determination are a-above the recorded average but seem to be… reasonable. Though, there are also these weird echoes and I can’t figure out some of them.”

You just gave your head a little shake, communicating to her you didn’t follow. She flushed, sheepish. “S-sorry, I guess I got... caught up in my own theories. B-but that's beside the point! The point being, is... I’m going to have to spend more time than I thought examining this.”

“So, you just need to collect more data.”

“Yes. I-I hope you don’t mind.”

You closed your eyes, reclining against the arm of the couch. “Well, knock yourself out. I’m not going anywhere.”

Alphys alternated between scribbling on her clipboard and taking long stares at the screens. Greater Dog returned at some point during the session for his guard duty. He panted whenever you give into scratching behind his ears, his tail striking a heavy thump against the floor and his armor with each joyful swish. 

Slowly, you nodded off again. The sound of pen against paper and the occasional bark faded into the background. Or was it getting louder? You didn't know.

You were falling. Falling into darkness, soothing and all enveloping. A voice told you to let go, and you were so tempted.

Alphys called your name, asked you to open your eyes.

No. That was too much work. You preferred it this way. Nothing could touch you here. You drifted, farther and farther away...

Alphys’ voice faded. You felt like you should have been more concerned about that, but you weren't. You were so comfortable in this darkness. You had stopped feeling your body, only the beat of your heart remaining clear, low and getting slower and slower…

And the world went out from underneath you.

You were floating, body numb, immobile. A sharp, tangy smell drifted over you, almost difficult to distinguish from the vaguely cinnamon scent in the air. You felt warmer, and your drifting stopped for a moment.

Your mind stirred slowly, not quite willing to part with the darkness but unable to ignore the voices filtering softly into your subconscious. The rapid beating of your heart pounded in your ears but little else. Feeling started returning to your limbs inch by inch.

Awareness began to trickle back into your mind. Your eyes cracked open a sliver. Your sight blurred, as if there was a thick, partially opaque film over your eyes, but the dim lighting and the gritty, muddled combination of muted colors that served as your surroundings helped make things bearable.

Where were you? What  _happened_ _?_

You were lying on a bed, in a spacious room. The thick covers of a comforter were drawn up to your chin, blanketing you in a smothering warmth. Silhouettes shifted above you, a hazy mess of white and black. You inhaled softly through your nose, eyes scrunching shut. Fingers twitched into motion, though you found your movements to be heavy and slow. You tried to focus on the voices around you, trying to make them out.

 _“CLEARLY DON’T… THE HUMAN…”_ That voice. You vaguely recalled the attention-grabbing tone of it.

 _“no idea… fault… it just happened.”_ Another, lower one retorted. Hollow familiarity struck within you.

 _“OBVIOUSLY… CARE OF IT… STAND…”_ Papyrus and Sans? They both sounded so far away, muffled and faint.

But it was _them_.

The rush of relief almost knocked the air out of you and you felt yourself getting stuck between this sudden, overwhelming urge to cry and the disbelief coursing through your veins. Never would you have thought the brothers would garner any emotional response to this degree but right now you couldn’t care less.

They were there. You were home. You were _safe_.

Your head was still spinning so much, you half couldn't believe you'd managed to think straight for long enough to place the voices. Hell, part of you was convinced their presence here was a desperate mirage thought up in your mind and you’d be back in that living room with Alphys any second now. But slowly the heavy knowledge nested in your head, growing surer and you listened to snippets of the conversation.

There was no worry, doubt or second guessing. It felt like a ball of warmth rooted itself in your chest, and for the first time in too long, there was no weight on your shoulders. You opened your eyes wider this time and blinked repeatedly, your vision sharpening.

There were two pairs of narrowed sockets, one of which housed sharp bright pinpricks that were still darting across their environment with a confused gleam. The other focused entirely on you with a startling intensity in its stare.

Your breath hitched. An unknown thing deep inside you reeled in rising horror.

The corners of the skeleton’s knife-thin grin hitched higher. One tooth coldly glinted in the pale light barely brushing through the window. Instead of the usual white pupils floating amicably across the black void, the burning light of this set almost cut through your very soul.

And they glowed a vivid crimson.

“heya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gUESS WHO.
> 
> Ngl this was just a bitch to write all the way through uuuggghhh (I wrote it out like 3 different ways and am still like "fuck this bullshit I cannot write for shit" uurrrrggghhhfffmmm just take it I give up for now). In my original (first out of many ugh) draft for these events I actually had a very long conversation between Asgore and Reader where they talked about flowers and intense stuff. thangs. It was subsequently deleted and now you have the new skellies a whole chapter earlier.
> 
> You're welcome.
> 
> But I hope all of this makes sense? Anyways thanks for reading, guys. Letting me know what your think makes my day and feeds my muse.


	16. Meeting the New and Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All around me are familiar faces  
> Worn out places, worn out faces.

As far as first meetings go, this certainly was a memorable one.

You could literally feel the moment the shit hit the fan, and you took a second to savor the last time you knew what was going on in your life.

…More skeletons—oh god why _skeletons?_

Sans(?) raised an eye ridge at the silence you chose to respond with. Really, you should be doubly concerned about the taller figure to your right, but the crimson eyes held yours, and it became difficult to look away. Not when familiarity called to you, just below the surface of the foreign emptiness of a complete stranger.

 _Sweet Buddha on a bicycle that's scary_. You didn't even know why he freaked you out so much, only that he did.

A part of you wondered if he could read your thoughts from your eyes alone. You were probably stricken, emotions broadcasting with the subtlety of a truck.

You finally wrenched your gaze aside to the ceiling, trying to muffle the sound of your increasing breaths and ignore the ugly sensation in the pit of your stomach.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t. Ignore it.

Maybe this was another nightmare within a nightmare your paranoia had concocted.

Eyes still on faded wood above, you didn't see Papyrus(?) turn. You sure heard him at the moment he noticed your state of awareness because _of course, of course he'd fucking see, of course you were still dragged into this clusterfuck of a horror show that you didn't want to be a part of, ever._ “HUMAN!”

As you opened your mouth, not sure as to what you were about to say, you registered what you were looking at a fraction of a second later. What little light that trickled in the room highlighted the tall, menacing figure of the other skeleton, his serious hostile look zeroed upon you.

So, _naturally,_ your body acted before your shocked mind could, jerking back, flinging off most of the covers as you choked on a gasp. You wrenched yourself off the bed without a backwards glance at it, hitting the ground with a thump. A stray rumpled sheet followed. You sat still for no more than a moment, tearing it off before it could entangle you, other hand scrabbling for a weapon. Fingers brushing against what felt like a pile of books, you wasted no time grabbing one and chucking it almost clumsily in your panic hastened state.

You could practically hear the taunt of 'missed' by the shorter monster when it sailed through the empty space where his head had been. The other raised an arm in time to block your thrown weapon, eyes narrowed into a glare that was growing with fury as he realized what you'd done.

You blinked.

“YOU!”

A flash of white flew through the air directly at you and you shoved yourself back violently. It embedded itself halfway into the ground, in the place you'd just been.

A bone.

It buzzed with a clear sheen of red inches away from you. Snapping your gaze upwards, the trapped feeling of a cornered animal clawed forth, feral and afraid of the threat right in front of you. A threat that was a pair of skeletons. A threat with deadly magical bones.

A threat that was still throwing deadly magical bones.

Instinct honed with the suddenness of the attack made you almost fall backwards as you fumbled in a desperate attempt to put distance between you and them. Sharp tips met skin and brushed past, dragging out a pitched gasp.

Your back pressing flush against the wall stole most of your attention before the fresh sting of the long, bloody scratches along your neck and arm asserted itself. You closed your eyes automatically at pain, breathing hard. Too hard considering the effort you had exerted– _throwing a book, nothing fancy or difficult_ –and you pried upon your eyes with a thundering heart. Your mind already raced again with haphazardous plans being shoved together and thoughts about how you did not want to get into a fight especially when magic was involved–

One of them started forth and before you could even think to move, you were forced further back into the wall by the power behind the clawed hand gripping your neck.

You finally caught a proper glimpse of your attacker. The pale light from the window washed over him. Your mind balked as it catalogued the details. The sharp fangs, the two deep, dark gouges scored down his left eye socket, the red tattered scarf wound around his cervical column. But it’s still _Papyrus_.

Tears flooding your eyes, your throat constricted from the pressure bearing down under the vice-tight grip of the red gloves.

No, not Papyrus.

Panic returned in full force and made you swing your legs up, feet slamming into the big target that was his broad chest armor. The attack wasn't as strong as you would've liked but it did its job of relieving the force on your neck, the enemy staggering slightly back away from you more out of surprise than anything else. Freed from your position against the wall, you clutched at your throat, greedily gulping in air.

Faint bubbles of sluggish confusion welled up inside you as though just rising to the realm of consciousness, almost lost underneath the chaotic din of emotions. Not important.

The light coming in through the window helped you slightly see the two monsters better. Oh god, something in you knew, but seeing the red and black edgy scheme of their clothes cemented their alternate version status.

Not-Sans was becoming increasingly disturbing though, having returned to his blatant, if not more irate, staring. You also felt the glare Not-Papyrus threw down at you from his place among the giants increase tenfold. Why was it that genetics saw fit to keep you only marginally taller than some of your fellow human brethren? Why was it that these monsters got to swagger around with their tall stature and top-shelf reaching capabilities while you stood that much closer to hell?

…at least Sans (Your Sans) could join you. This punk looking one too.

“ _YOU_ _PATHETIC WHELP._ ” Not-Papyrus intoned, and his voice made your lungs hurt. It's masculine enough, but pitched lower with a gruff rasp, though the tone slid effortlessly into something deeper, darker, as it continued, “HOW DARE YOU TRY AND FREELY ASSUALT THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS? AND WITH AN INSULTINGLY PITIFUL ATTEMPT AT THAT.”

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

Where was help when you needed it? You shouldn’t even be forced into this position into the first place.

“NOW. I DEMAND TO KNOW WHERE WE ARE BEFORE I END YOUR MISERABLE LIFE!”

“N-No,” you snarled, breath patchy as your lungs continued to painfully draw in air.

The silence that followed was deafening. The corners of Not-Sans’ smile finally slackened, the eye lights of his gaze seemingly sharper. Defiance didn’t quite keep the stinging sensation out of your fingers and toes, or the goosebumps from prickling up and down the length of your skin. Your hands clenched into fists and you fought back another shiver.

_You had an odd feeling you’ve seen this run of events before._

Wait a moment, they didn’t know where they were?

Your eyes flicked about the room and widened. They then darted to a cardboard box to your right just within arms reach, before rounding back to the skeletons.

“heh.” The sound, a low, deep voice that reverberated hauntingly in your ears through the white noise, was scoffed so quietly under his breath you barely heard it yourself, but it instigated more fear in you than the magic bones had ever done. As if it could harm you more somehow. “maybe the kiddo needs a little _persuasion_ , boss.”

Not-Papyrus huffed, crossing his arms. A bony finger tapped out the tune of his irritation against his humerus. “FINE THEN. DRAG THE INFORMATION OUT OF IT IF YOU HAVE TO.”

“m’kay.”

The audible click of teeth following the bizarre exchange sent every muscle in your body tensing as if on instinct. Your fingers twitched. Whether in preparation for an attack or defense, you never found out.

Within one stuttered heartbeat and the next Not-Sans was _right there_. Personal space became a myth and you found yourself pinned. A skeletal hand reached up to curve around your face. As he tracked each minute tick of your face–your wide, wet eyes, the twitches of your eyes, your parted lips–it never lessened in its intensity. No, at the sight of the latter, his dark gaze _gained_ a lazy, almost uncanny ease to it. It was equal parts cautious, intrigued, and taunting. And…and…

_Was he…was he getting off to this!?_

The corners of his crooked grin stretched wide across his features, sharpened into a savage smirk.

You flinched away at the sight, but you didn't get far.

His grip around your cheeks tightened, phalanges digging into your jaw and the soft space behind your ears. Your muscles seized up almost painfully as your eyes grew impossibly wide. Your head ached from the pressure, and you had a brief, terrifying vision of your skull caving in beneath the strength of Not-Sans’ bruising grip.

The worse part was the thickening, cloying pressure poisoning the air. It echoed inside your head, buzzed across the surface of your skin like static, and you wanted to turn away from it, to run far, far away until it couldn’t reach you anymore. But you knew you couldn’t escape the unwavering gaze of those perfect, circles suspended at the center of the black cavities.

“you gonna scream kiddo?” He tilted his head like a curious animal. Tears fell down the curves of your cheeks in lieu of a reply, your mouth frozen. "you can scream," he said as he shifted on top of you, knees snug on either side of your hips. Between his bulk and the sickly sharp, tangy scent he exuded, you're suffocating.

Your helpless silence goaded him on. He leaned down, breaching the scant distance between you until tip of his nasal bone almost touched your nose. His voice dropped to a feral whisper. “i can _make_  ya scream, considering that little stunt you just tried ta pull.”

Yet still you didn't scream. You didn't wail. You didn't sob. You couldn't. You could feel them, a cacophony of terror trapped within the cage of your throat, hysteria tripping on the tip of your tongue, but it's like his presence sucked all the air out of you, locked your voice away and left you unable to do anything but shiver in helpless terror. All you could do was watch, your gaze arrested by the red eye lights melting into bottomless voids as a wickedly sharpened bone materialized in his other hand, poised at your neck.

You didn't know why now, but your mind simply rebelled at the sight, adrenaline flooding your system in a dizzying rush and somehow, finally, loosening the shackles on your voice.

“ _Nnngh!_ ”

It's only a short, agonized hum of fear, an animal bleat of panic, but Not-Sans paused at it, tilting his head as if to hear you better.

But you emitted no further sound save the rush of your breath and the rabbit-fast beat of your heart. Your throat closed once more, a lump of panic and sheer animal terror preventing you from uttering a single word.

The odd pockets of emotion underneath the fear came alive with a flurry of energy and muted emotions. The loudest was a blend of apprehension and confusion while the softest hints of alarm lurked.

A manic, muffled chuckle erupted from the skeleton's mouth. Your vision wavered, obstructed by tears, but the retraction of the bone was clear enough to your eyes. Your body relaxed a fraction as the glow in his hand vanished, followed by the maw of teeth, until you're once again faced with the twisted visage of the monster, and Not-Sans’ mouth curled in smug amusement.

“what was that?” he sneered, releasing your cheek to cup a hand around where an ear would have resided. “did ya say something?”

His other hand, still curled around your jaw, jerked your head up and down in a facsimile of a nod, jarring more tears from your eyes and making your teeth clack together painfully.

“yes?” he continued.

For some stupid reason you recalled a clearing of tall grass drifting in the breeze, sunshine beating down on you, and lazily drifting clouds. A dumb landlady comment.

If that was really how Sans saw you, joking or not, then fine. They stayed in your house so they owed you rent long overdue. For payment Papyrus and him could come and save your sorry ass.

“HURRY IT UP, BROTHER.”

“i’m workin’ on it.” His voice turned into cruel, taunting timber as his attention went back to you. “go on then. why don’t you be a pal and answer my bro’s question? don't be shy.”

Your lips, your whole body, trembled violently but you opened your mouth. You reached for something, anything, but all that managed to climb from the prison of your throat was a strangled, stuttered, “S-Screw you.”

The smooth bone of the phalanges on your jaw tightened until pain lanced through your skull. "wrong," he growled, and panic squeezed your guts in a vice. Surely it's now, you thought, your chest aching with the force of your rushed breaths, surely it's now that he'll kill you.

You braced for it, for the punch of those brutal teeth through your throat or for those huge, bruising hands to crack your head in two, but instead you're faced with a wide smile. That cocky expression filled you with more terror than the sharp bone that’d been pressed to your neck, though his next words came close.

“let's play a game. do you like to play games?” Once again Not-Sans jerked your head up and down in imitation of a nod. "i know a good one. easy, too. ’s like truth or dare, but there's only one rule.” He reached for one of your hands, ripping it free of its death grip on your clothes and bringing it to his teeth. His gaze never left your face. “if you scream, you lose that pretty little soul of yours. sounds fun right? i think **we can have a great time.** ”

“HOW ABOUT YOU STOP WASTING TIME AND GET TO THE POINT?”

“i said i’m _workin’_ on it!”

You swallowed thickly.

 _“Sans.”_ His name left your mouth as a breathy whisper.

His head jerked around to face you. The red eye lights grew darker… and smaller as both his sockets narrowed down at you.

Something in you startled at the same time.

“haven’t even given ya a reason to say my name yet.” he said bluntly. “ ‘specially considering you shouldn’t _know_ it. guess i’ll have ta drag that outta you too.”

Not-Sans hadn't even see you’d reached for something yourself, hand dipping into the box. Until it hit him. Multiple times in the face.

He made an odd keening screech, then screamed bloody murder.

You could barely hear the stunned call of “SANS?!” over the pretty awful sound. Your finger slipped off the trigger and the can, emptied of its contents, clattered to the ground.

“ow! fucking- fuck!” Blinded, Not-Sans staggered and swung from one side of your dimly lit room while furiously wiping his sleeve across his eyes. In trying to rub the pain away, he only succeeding in spreading it further into his sockets. He stumbled back past his brother until he hit the opposite wall of the room, sliding down it until he was crouching on the carpet. “fuck, shit, oh my _stars, that fucking burns!”_

Your mind wasn’t on the monster you just ruthlessly bear sprayed. Your eyelids clamped shut convulsively and you were choking and coughing, trying to clear your lungs. As you continued to cough, sucking in oxygen only to inhale more of the slowly-dispersing cloud of bear spray that still hung in the stagnant air, you blinked open your eyes in a vain effort to see. Reality began to seem like a bit of a hazy concept to you at that point, as you slapped an arm over your mouth. Your mind went blank, filled with white noise and static, and you’re present, but you’re not really _there_.

Not-Papyrus hovered over Not-Sans as he dragged his sleeve across his face again, trying to reach for the wall, to orientate himself. You could make out the hunched over forms but the black wrath seeping out of the tall monster as he whipped around to face you made the previous fury pale in comparison.

The air was thick with violent energy and the promise of escalation when—

 _The world rippled and slid, and a wave of potent pressure washed through the air. Your body wanted to move, to dart around and run free of this room and just keep going, or maybe lash out and start screaming wildly while you attacked_ _but your breath was locked tightly behind your teeth._ _Your stomach twisted inside your torso._

_You couldn't speak, couldn't move._

_You’re cold, so cold, and there was no one. There was nothing._

_There was only nothing._

_Sensation was torn from you, like air being knocked from your lungs. There was no light, and there was no dark. There was only the endless abyss, crawling inside of you, urging you to let go. To give up what you held on to, but you couldn’t. It was all you were, and you_

—a blue light flashed, and another voice broke through the heavy air that dragged all eyes sideways.

“wow. what do we have here…?”

After a moment that felt so much longer with the things swirling around in your mind, your eyes picked out the blurry splash of color that casually pushed off a wall surface and stepped out of the murkiest shadows of your room with one eye shut. A singular ghostly blue orb hovered in the bottomless pit of his left eye socket.

At another time, the reaction may have been comical, the way Not-Papyrus seemed to have been struck across the face by some invisible force at the sight. However, it was tempered greatly by the fact your thoughts were just one long continuous scream at this point.

The world blurred as your senses flickered, and you coughed for breath. In the back of your head you’re aware of a cacophony of sound, a series of talking and shouts and bellows. The sound of a door somewhere slamming open, loud thumps, then another much louder door slam. A sharp, high-pitched hum accompanied the quick clacks, and others you weren’t sure what to make of. Somebody was cursing the air blue, and your eyes processed the very color in front of you.

You’re only peripherally aware of a steadying hand on your back that braced you upright gently, warmer than your own skin. Your body acted instinctively in your subdued, panicked state, and reached out, to grasp onto something.

You put the pieces together rapidly, unable to feel ashamed at the stab of relief you'd never looked upon that old jacket with.

He stiffened under your touch, but he didn't shove you away. He simply held still while you latched onto him, letting your almost desperate fervor seep through his bones.

_Thank **fuck.**_

It’s Sans, the real one, and he seemed to be taking in the situation very poorly.

“you alright, kid?” His tone had been almost teasing and light whilst his gaze was anything _but_. The restrained anger and concern in it bellied the analytical spark as he swept his eye over you, holding his stare at the bloodstains doting your skin, and your tearful expression. The skeleton looked like he was either about to have an aneurysm, or shit a brick. “you seem a little banged up there.”

You resisted the urge to say you were doing _absolutely terrible, thanks for asking._

Sans took your lack of comprehensive response favourably, mouth curving into a smile as he drew back. “good, good.” Despite a degree of relief in his eye and the slight sag of the shoulders, the anger became sharper. “take it easy. we can handle this.”

At least his anger was on them, and not you. That's a good thing, right?

You do you, Sans.

Suddenly, you felt warm hands slide under your arms– lifting you onto your feet. In your state of panic, fear overcame you again as you attempted to pull yourself out of their grasp, only for a calm baritone voice to rip you from your worrisome state. “calm down. ‘s just paps. he isn’t going to hurt you.”

Your actions suddenly ceased as you looked up. Instantly your watery eyes landed on the visage of Papyrus. His concerned yet pointed frown looked off putting but you knew only then that no one was going to hurt you for now. Safety. That was what you felt.

Sans was up off the ground now, facing the other room occupants with a look that twisted his features into something casual yet disturbing that made you want to avert your eyes. Not that you saw him out of anything but the corner of your eye however, too busy clutching onto Papyrus. You knew you were getting his shirt bloodied, but you were busy feeling your emotions to care. You felt tired, you were in pain, you didn't know what was happening, but you knew at the same time. There were too much things going here, and oh, god, please have mercy on your soul. This was all too damn confusing.

Could this be over already? Thanks.

“SANS, I’M NOT REALLY SURE THIS IS THE TIME—" Papyrus began to say, a quiet but intense note in his voice.

“i'm not actually sure if i have or not enough at this point—” Guarded warning weaved into San’s clipped words.

“IF YOU THINK YOU YOU’RE MONSTER ENOUGH—” That one was simply leaking rage.

Your eyes latched onto the thus silent yet twitching form of Not-Sans behind Not-Papyrus while the monsters heatedly bicker in the background. Was he dying over there? Was he already dead? He was a creepy jackass but you didn’t mean to _murder_ anyone with bear spray of all things.

“—doesn’t matter. we can’t just—”

“—WITHOUT ANYONE ELSE GETTING—”

“—CUT OFF YOUR HEAD AND LET IT JOIN—”

The situation was quickly veering towards a fight as the two sides begin to edge near each other with violent intent. You were almost content to let it play out. Then you remembered this was _your room_ that would serve as the battlefield with _you_ still in it. And a possibly dying monster.

No. Unacceptable. You had to draw the line somewhere. You had to draw the fucking line in sand. You gotta make a statement. You gotta look inside yourself and say, 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Not fucking this.

“Guys, wait—” you protested.

“—what’s coming to ya and teach em’ a—”

“—CHEAP IMITATIONS OF MY BROTHER AND I—”

“—HAPPENED TO OUR FRIEND WHEN WE—”

“—turn our backs for a sec and everythin’ goes to—”

“Guys,” you said again, louder.

“—PATHETIC HUMAN WILL SUFFER FOR THESE TRANSGRESSIONS—”

“—ENTIRELY UNNECESSARY FOR—”

“—on someone your own size—”

“—A HOLE THE SIZE OF MY HAND THROUGH YOUR—”

“EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP!!” You finally shouted, heartbeat picking up again.

The room seemed to freeze on the brink of anarchy, and Sans and Not-Papyrus’ gazes slide over to you. Even through the darkness, you could see both of their jaws clenched in anger.

“Stop and think. Now is not the time for anyone to pick fights.” you advised lowly, burying your panic. _It's okay, it's okay. It will all be alright, as long as you keep your shit together._

Sans’ single eye narrowed dangerously. There was a long bone in Not-Papyrus’ hand you never noticed him pulling free, but you saw his attention dart to your surroundings.

 _Yes_ , you urged inside your head. _Take a good look at what position you're in. You are on unknown territory. You have a disabled brother against three people and you have no idea about what’s happening. If you start a fight, you can’t be positive of a good outcome._

You could see the exact moment he recognized the disadvantage he's working with. His face shuttered for a moment, and you saw him shut out his emotions and focus on the situation, the same action you took yourself not minutes before. Silence reigned, thick with tension. The moment was ripe with possibility, and it could swing any which way.

Slowly, as if to test the waters, Sans shifted his foot back, and he slid out of his defensive stance. His body language changed and became less provocative, and it melted into forced ease.

Not-Papyrus didn't fall out of his combative stance, but he didn’t immediately attack.

“Obviously,” you said, forcing your voice to remain even and detached. “There are some things that need to be explained.”

Sans looked at you as if this was a severe understatement, and you knew it was. You barely knew what the hell you’re doing here. The situation is far, far too complicated as it was. You're stuck, and you weren't sure what direction to take, where to go.

Pausing, you inhaled and scrunched the worst of your raging emotions down. Don’t think of what could have happened. Don’t think about how these monsters hurt you, yet. Don’t think about the sting of your cuts, your dreams, or that damn book. Scrunch it up more and more. Compartmentalize until you felt they resembled a writhing ball and terrible string of thoughts died down with it. Toss it into a safe and lock that up tight for a future you to deal with. Now think logically.

“But first we need to deal with that guy.” You let go of Papyrus and warily pointed at Not-Sans. “It’s not supposed to be rubbed in but…well, it's sort of too late for him. Hey, can you hear me? We need to clean you up, get the stuff off you, okay? I...just try to breathe. Don't rub your face. Don't touch your eyes. It'll make it worse. Just blink.”

Not-Sans made a strangled noise, and you weren't sure if it was in acknowledgement or pain. Waves of fury radiated off him, almost as tangible as the stench of capsaicin. You refused to feel sorry for him. He got himself into this mess.

You turned to his brother. “Try and murder me later. We can’t talk this out like civilized people if he’s stuck like that. Take off his coat but keep your hands where it’s dry.”

The look Not-Papyrus gave you would have turned a lesser person into a pillar of salt, you were sure.

Didn’t matter anymore. Sans and Papyrus’ presence seemed to act as a decent deterrent. The faster you could get this over with the better. You buried the seed of hope in your chest like a treasured jewel, letting the light suffuse your weary heart. It gives you the strength you needed to keep going for a little bit longer. Just a few more steps.

“uh,” Sans started.

“fucking…” Not-Sans finally managed to choke out through gritted teeth, in between the silent coughs wracking his frame. He didn't finish the train of thought, but you could imagine what was running through his head.

Papyrus talked over Sans’ incredulous scoff. “OH, HE IS HURT?”

“Yeah, and we need a bowl of clean water, two in fact. We need that and detergent - baby shampoo, for getting the spray off, since it’s not water soluble. It’s under the counter in the bathroom in the hall upstairs. Don't touch him. though You'll just contaminate yourself.”

Sans turned his attention to Not-Sans, getting close, but keeping clear of him. “what’s wrong with him?”

Over in the corner, Not-Sans gave a shout, trying to twist out of Not-Papyrus’ hands. The monster grabbed his upper arms and made a dissatisfied noise, holding him fast until Not-Sans stopped thrashing. “YOU’ll BE FINE SANS. JUST DO WHAT YOU BEST–NOTHING. THEN, ONCE THIS SPELL THE HUMAN CAST ON YOU IS REVERSED, WE CAN EXACT OUR VENGEANCE AND GRIND THESE CRETINS INTO DUST!”

Not-Sans stopped fighting and let himself be stripped of his jacket by Not-Papyrus, though his red turtleneck was left on. He was furiously blinking, trying to clear his eyes, though he was probably still blind. 

“Bear spray.” You replied to Sans, moving on autopilot as you maneuvered past them and towards the bathroom. The bathroom was cool, overhead lights casting pools of brightness on the tiled floor and walls. You rummaged under the counter for the largest bowl you had abandoned under there while Sans lingered outside the doorway, keeping one eye the pair of skeletons as Not-Papyrus detailed how you would all suffer. “If we leave him like that, he’ll be in perpetual burning agony and I don’t know how the spray would affect his sight.”

He blinked. “stars, I’m almost glad you pointed a knife at us.”

You turned on the faucet, running loudly into the basin before the patter of water splashing into the bowl filled room. “I thought you said you weren’t upset about that anymore.”

His brows furrowed. “i’m not. are you?”

“Baby shampoo?” you asked instead, already reaching out for the plastic bottle Papyrus had returned with.

“YES, SHAMPOO OF THE HUMAN BABIES,” he confirmed. “WILL IT TRULY WORK ITS HEALING PROPERTIES ON MONSTERS?”

“No harm in trying.” You squirted out half the bottle into the water, stirring it together with your fingertips. Carrying the bowl with you, you knelt down next to Not-Sans. The scene that met your eyes couldn’t be described as anything but pathetic. The way sad baby animals were pathetic.

Not-Sans was curled up and sitting on the ground with knees drawn up to his chest, pale except for red smudges across each cheekbone, mouth twisted into a pained scowl as he panted in a way that ought to unflattering. Instead, because the world’s an unfair place, it just made him look like an overheated Labrador puppy. Liquid trailed down his face and there’s something covering his sockets, something damp and gray and… strangely familiar.

Your eyes narrowed.

“Is that my scarf?” you asked quietly, seeing red even as you batted away Not-Papyrus’ hands to peel the fabric away from Not-Sans’ face.

“SO WHAT IF IT IS?” A miffed Not-Papyrus challenged.

You ignored him, discarding the scarf to the side with a wet slap. Not-Sans’ empty sockets stared past you, unseeing. Around them the bones bruised a pale red, shallow scratch marks ringing the sockets. Oh, how you would love to punch him right in the face but you weren’t normally the type to kick people while they were down. You dipped your scarf into the soapy water and wiped carefully, from the corner of one eye and out as if removing makeup. It took about twenty minutes of repeated washes, the shampoo gently cleansing away the oils and Papyrus repeatedly changing the water.

And then, Not-Sans blinked his eye lights into existence.  They were dull, and flickered at times but remained present.

“YOU CAN SEE? NO VISUAL DISTURBANCES?” Not-Papyrus asked.

“bit blurry. that's all,” Not-Sans answered, blinking a few times, trying to clear his vision.

You sighed, and part of you wondered what level of screwed up did you have to be to help your assailant, especially so soon after nearly getting speared and turned into a shish kabob with a bone. After all, you were trying your best to keep a lid on your emotions as you hovered in that strange nervous fear state heralding outright hysteria and a while before not giving a damn.

A different part wondered if you had already reached that level of crazy. It wasn’t hard to believe, considering you were no longer saddled with not one or two, but _four_ skeletons for the foreseeable future. You couldn’t do this anymore.

How this happen? What was this? What was your life?

Oh. It’d be extra fun times when they realized they were trapped here. A nice, sick cosmic joke at the expense of all of you.

“Christ. Just kill me now.”

“ _with pleasure_.” Not-Sans spat, voice gravelly from the yelling.

Like you said, fun times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't read a lot of these types of fics where the skeles all meet each other for the first time. Instead they're usually fully acquainted with each other long before Reader or whoever enters the picture. Well then. None of that here I say. So yeah. She didn't end up in Underfell she just woke up to a nasty surprise. But unfortunately for Red-I mean, not-Sans-that bear spray Reader mentioned forever ago made a comeback. That's what you get for being a creep man. Tbh, when Papyrus and Reader (of all people though it's very unhealthy) can remain the most rational is a thing to behold, seeing as Sans is pretty pissed that Reader, *cough*his frienacquaintance*cough* a person he knows who's been housing him and his bro, picked up some nasty cuts thanks to some hot topic palette swap of himself. 
> 
> I have to admit though...writing Fell!Paps is fun. I think I'm gonna like this going forward. But yeah, they boys are back so come say hi to me at [tumblr](https://myosctis.tumblr.com/). You can yell at me there, submit prompts, or even ask the characters in this fic stuff. Like 'hey Red, what's it like being bear sprayed'?


	17. Seventh Time’s the Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was just your luck that you passed out and all this snowballed from day seven, a number that was by all accounts supposed to be considered lucky.

You thought the setting for the ‘ _diplomatic conference_ ’ between both parties could be a bit more cinematic.

For one, it should be appropriately staged outside. Ideally it would be twilight, with overcast skies that threatened rain, and lightning ominously jumping from cloud to cloud. The leaves in the trees would rattle like old bones, and the distant crack-boom of thunder would sound every now and then.

It would be in a secret room lit only by open flame torches, with dark wood paneling and no windows. Shadows would dance dramatically on everyone's faces, and for no apparent reason there would be a spider in the corner to illustrate some crazy metaphor of plans and entanglement. There would also be some sort of bug being eaten by the spider. Preferably a fly.

However, because reality liked to ruin your daydreams, the setting was nothing like that.

It's early evening, an hour after the sun set, and nobody was even aware this meeting was taking place until like, ten minutes ago. The new arrivals certainly hadn’t known they were going to have this time slot open.

Outside the living room windows, the sky was such a nice shade of dark blue it almost hurt to look at. Occasionally a group of fat clouds passed overhead. There was also a distinct lack of infernal wind, but a decidedly peaceful breeze did pick up now and then to ruffle the greenery.

The room wasn't lit with open torches, and it's not dark stained wood. The walls were the same pleasant mix of beige plaster and light pine paneling as always, and the floors were comprised of a clean carpet spread over hardwood. There’s the coffee table between you all, on which a teapot rested, steam gently curling out of its spout. The moon shone bright and beautiful, filtered in through the window, but mostly, clean white light illuminated everything from overhead.

At this point, it's more the set of a Studio Ghibli film than the scene of an emotionally charged confrontation.

Which is the excuse you’re going to use if anybody called you out for looking a little too relaxed. You’re stressed out, but also, it's been a long couple of days for you, and you’re kinda glad to not have a squad of people breathing down your neck.

On the other hand, the tension in the room was unreal.

The magic in the room surged around you like a current, swirling from something smooth and cold like scales, and something unmoved and unbroken, like the earth itself. The fine hairs on your body rose but the rest of you felt like it could collapse under the pressure.

If this was how most monsters and mages sensed magic, you wanted nothing to do with it, because it's overwhelming and demanded your attention, a gossamer energy that danced across your brain, tingling with half-read intentions and threats.

The bubbling undercurrent was problematic as well. The room was divided into sections, groups of people standing together based on loyalty, drawing clear lines that usually wouldn't be so obvious.

Across from you was Not-Papyrus, looming beside his brother and being a lot more intimidating than you imagined he'd be, if you’re honest. Dude was freaking tall and broad as shit. He had at least a foot on you like Papyrus, and even over there he took up a good portion of space. What space his body wasn't taking up, his armor was consuming, because that skeleman had some _spikes_. His eyes darted around the room as his fanged teeth remained downturned, scrutinizing every detail of his perceived threat.

Sitting behind, and a little bit to the side of him in one of the armchairs, was Not-Sans, who was either glaring at you or sleeping with his eyes open in the most unsettling way you had ever seen. Yes, the skeletal spectre looked decidedly more worn and ragged, like he'd been pulling all-nighters for the last week, but that detracted little how he seemed to be fixated upon your every move. He didn't so much as blink. Despite the same weird malleability of bone and seemingly permanent grin, you couldn’t help but note the immediate differences between him and Sans. Like the fact the teeth in his _unsettling_ , permanent grin interlaced with one another with cutting edge of a knife.

You held a niggling suspicion that he wished he had choked you when he had the chance. It's not like you found it low-key distracting, intimidating or anything.

(You did. Did he even have to try?)

In comparison, Sans and Papyrus looked positively casual and unrumpled. Actually, they might looked as much without the comparison.

Sans was, well, _Sans_ and to anyone on the outside looking in, at ease. He was lounging against the arm rest of the couch with his head resting in his hand, slippered feet propped up on the lower rung of the coffee table. The t-shirt of the day underneath his hoodie was some kind of word pun. That damnable book was on his lap. But a few things clued you in. For one he hadn't move a muscle, maybe because he had none.

At the other end of the couch, Papyrus was the most eye catching aside from Not-Papyrus, in his neon-pink shirt, adorned with various sequins spelling out the words ‘Cool Dude’. He was also, for some unfathomable reason, wearing hot-pants. For the longest time Papyrus stared at the ground. He tugged the scarf tighter around his neck and worried with the frayed edges for a bit. A darkening, faraway look lingered on his face, brows furrowing, eyes searching for an answer on his fingertips.

Then there was you, sheltered between Sans and Papyrus. You yourself hadn’t shacked up in a room and completely broken down yet, which was the best anybody could ask for from you, considering recent events but...

You’re tired.

Forget how long it’s been that you spent an unknown amount of time–one hour or two, days, months?–in the land of sleep. You’re just tired of these ‘out of the frying pan into the fire’ situations. You’re tired of being on the receiving of not one, or two, but a consecutive series of one-two sucker punches.

You’d prefer the dreamless void over the possibility of facing more, if the distinct possibility of it tossing you right back to the dream world didn’t hang over your head like a guillotine. Even then the familiar cold frosting your nerves banished any hope of slipping back into the darkness. So, you’re left to stare down the barrel of this.

The sound of liquid hitting the inside of a cup drew your attention. Papyrus had begun to pour a cup of tea. You could probably go on about the connotations of such a move, but you’re fairly certain the monster was just thirsty.

“SO,” Papyrus said levelly, his hands busy trying to handle the tea. His voice sounded completely flat, as if he's not really listening at all.  “ARE WE GOING TO HAVE A REASONABLE CONVERSATION, OR ARE WE GOING TO STARE AT EACH OTHER ALL DAY?”

It did the job, breaking the Mexican standoff up.

You weren't even sure what think of that, mind stunned into silence by his off-handish demeanor. When you last saw him, he had been enthralling you with stories of how he had wanted nothing more with his life then to become part of the Royal Guard before bidding you well wishes before work. Almost like he'd murder a man just to get the opportunity. Or, you suspected he wouldn't, and wasn't that just the problem with someone like _Undyne_ at the head of the guard?

And now, the entire house could start burning down around them and he wouldn't stop pouring tea.

In that moment, you felt that inappropriate admiration you thought you didn't have of Papyrus–bordering crush levels–spark to life inside your chest. Good to know that all it took was a single blunt statement for you to get on board that train.

Still, you wondered which skeleton was more suited to be called the pure embodiment of passive-aggressiveness.

“I HAVE NO IDEA,” the other tall skeleton snarled, “BUT YOU’RE PISSING ME OFF WITH YOUR BAD IMPRESSION OF ME!”

You lazily watched a leaf sway in the wind outside. It's a good thing you had no close neighbours, because Not-Papyrus had a serious set of pipes on him.

Papyrus stopped, raised his head and stared at him. “A COOL DUDE SUCH AS THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS NO NEED TO IMPERSONATE OTHERS.”

A startled expression passed over Not-Papyrus’ features before it was covered up with an imperious sneer. “EXACTLY! SO CEASE THIS CHARADE AT ONCE, YOU FAKE!”

“IT APPEARS THAT I MUST CLEAR SOMETHING UP FOR YOU, POINTIER PAPYRUS, BECAUSE YOU SEEM TO BE MISTAKEN.” Papyrus stated calmly. “I AM NOT A FAKE OF ANY SORT. I AM PAPYRUS. AND SO ARE YOU. WE’RE BOTH PAPYRUS, AND YOU’VE ENTERED THIS PLACE THROUGH A MYSTICAL BOOK PORTAL.”

“NYAH? THAT IS THE MOST _IDIOTIC_ SENTENCE I’VE EVER—” Not-Papyrus interjected.

The ominous sound of a grip tightening on the couch, quiet and purposeful, cut him off. “try again, i'm not sure i like your tone.”

So this what it's like watching Sans' hostility from the outside. You weren’t sure what you found more intimidating – his empty eye sockets which edged on uncanny valley territory, or the air around him that absolutely buzzed with tension. 

Not-Sans leaned forward in his seat, his expression lazy and threatening all at once. _“too fucking bad.”_

The corner of Sans’ mouth twitched as he stared them down impassively, the fake, placid smile fixed on his face like a threat of his own. This was sure to turn out well.

For a second you felt yourself acknowledge the stress. Your vision blurred, and for a moment you felt dizzy again, your vision bordered by black haze. You struggled with it, even though doing so elevated your already present headache, and you counted your breathing.

_Seven in, hold four, seven out._

“as I was saying, staring works fine with me, paps.” Sans idly said. “i haven’t dunked on anyone in a long time and while i’d like to keep it that way, i think it just depends on how big a bone to pick the new guys have with us.”

“BROTHER, PLEASE. THIS IS NOT THE TIME.”

“i just find it funny how a reasonable conversation might be a _tall_ order with these pleasant monsters, given their _short_ tempers. but hey, i'm sure they’re doing the best they can.”

“YOU—” Not-Papyrus growled, eyes on Sans before flicking to you, then Papyrus. It seemed he couldn't pick a target to focus on, but you would probably choose the two monsters if it was you. You’re small fry in a fight in comparison, if it came down to that.

“me,” agreed Sans, his eyes narrowed. “i wonder if this conversation’ll be as ‘reasonable’ as you are. i mean, i’m just so happy we’re all getting along swell. aren’t you? means i don’t haveta lift a finger and our little human pal won’t get banged up anymore than she already has.”

You attempted not to raise your brow at the sheer amount of venom packed behind the almost friendly tone of those casual words.

It's not emotional, per se, but it was more passionately delivered than Sans’ usual detached tone. It's not the lazy drawl of your conversations, or his playful teases, but scathing statements delivered in a way meant to cut.

What was more surprising? Papyrus’ attitude thus far or the fact Sans was defending you at all? Maybe both in equal measure seeing as logic no longer had a place here.

You would give Not-Sans credit though, because he smiled coldly, a jagged thing like broken glass, but truly intimidating to your eyes nonetheless.

“i didn’t know the human was a pet. or maybe it’s the other way ‘round and you’re her guard dogs or somethin’. seems fitting ‘cause ya look like me and i don’t wanna know where you came from, but man, you’re so pathetic-”

Your frown twisted your soured expression into something ugly, a bitter taste left in your mouth. “I resent those implications.”

“-either way, wherever the hell this place is seems a little fucked up.” Not-Sans finished.

You, Papyrus and Sans, operated on a friendly basis in this household. Not quite friends but they were far from your mortal enemies. But _that?_ The idea of you owning the skeletons or them owning you was terrible in every sense of the word. Revolted didn’t even come close to the disgust writhing inside you.

If the day ever came where either of those came to pass…let’s just say throwing yourself into the deep waters of the ocean would be a good place to start.

It seemed, however, that Sans found this statement pretty funny. It started low in his throat, a quiet sound, but he couldn't contain it, and he openly chuckled in the face of his double.

“you don’t know the half of it.” He hummed mirthfully. “you better ditch the attitude and get comfy. ‘cause as far as i can tell, _none_ of us are going anywhere.”

“I also resent that implication, Sans.” you said, almost drowned out by the infuriated roar of _“WHAT?!”_ by Not-Papyrus. It was true in a sense, but you were doing the best you could handle right now! You gazed at the cup in Papyrus’ hand with jealousy. Maybe you should pour yourself one, but who knew how long you would be here?

“i’m just telling it as it is.”

“Really?” you snorted, and maybe you’re being flippant, but this was a bit too much. “Everyone seems to be ‘telling it as it is’, but we are getting nowhere with this. We are all confused here, and none of us fully understands what the heck is going on.”

All eyes turned to you. You quelled the burst of anxiety crawling up your nerves.

“I don't know how monsters handle arguments like this, but what I know is that instead of everyone bickering and hurling around threats like it’s candy, this needs to solved immediately. So, I propose we do this in a way that won’t wind up with me losing my mind, or with us at each other’s throats, nonexistent or otherwise. Then we can all be on our merry way because I can’t be the only one who rather not sit here all night listening to this. Alright?”

Because they had better be on board. You didn’t want to view petty squabbles. You wanted answers, one way or the other. Afterwards, they could carry on arguing for all your headache cared.

Silence took over the room. You reached out, deciding that a cup of tea was completely necessary. Your hands peeked out of the flannel sleeve of your pyjamas and grasped the teapot gently.

“I vote we start a group listening circle. We all get to ask a question, and everyone gets the opportunity to answer that question. But by the end of that person’s turn the question has to be answered in some capacity and hopefully we can sort this out at some point this week. We rotate people clockwise. You’re one of the newest guests, Edgy Papyrus, so you can go ahead first.”

“AS IT SHOULD BE.” Not-Papyrus crossed his arms, glaring at the skeleton monsters beside you. “I HAVE TOLERATED THE PRESENCE OF YOU IMPOSTERS FOR LONG ENOUGH! I DEMAND TO KNOW WHERE WE ARE!”

“if you insist.” Sans shrugged. “how’s your grasp of quantum mechanics?”

Not-Sans' eye ridges furrowed, and corners of his grin slackened. Then the red eye lights shrunk to tiny pinpricks in his sockets. From the looks of things, he's beginning to get it.

Good.

“What does quantum mechanics honestly have to do with this?” you asked, curious yourself. Alphys had mentioned something about Sans and science. “I know alternate planes of existence tend to fall under that umbrella of science but I don’t get how it ties into a book.”

“ ’m not sure yet.” Sans admitted, his gaze becoming tired and pupils dulling. “still working on the train of thought.”

The edgy skeleton ground his teeth, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”

Papyrus opened his mouth to speak, but Not-Sans was already blurting out the words.

“they’re us, boss.”

Not-Papyrus looked at Not-Sans like he was waiting for more of an explanation than that, but the monster looked as though he didn’t have enough of an explanation even for himself. However, you figured that the fact that Sans and Papyrus looked just like them, and that Sans had mentioned quantum mechanics as a reason for them being here jigged something in that skull.

You broke the silence, seeing that neither Sans were going to elaborate on their own.

“Thanks to this thing,” You jabbed a finger at the book on Sans’ lap. “you’ve been pulled out of your universe into this one. Mine. Like these guys.”

“DON’T YOU REMEMBER EXITING THE BOOK?” Papyrus mused. “SANS AND I DO. OUR HUMAN FRIEND HERE WAS STUNNED IN AWE BY MY AMAZING ENTRANCE BEFORE SHE RAN AWAY SCREAMING.”

Your brow twitched, the memory of that night bubbling to the surface. It wasn’t your proudest moment. Come to think of it though it seemed doubtful now, if you ever got to the same point of familiarity with these two new skeletons then this night could be happily added to that ever growing list. Ugh.

Sans’ huff sounded almost mocking in nature, as if the same memory was _funny_ to him now. “really made her point when she had us at knifepoint.”

“ANYWAYS,” you cut in. Now wasn’t the time to dig into your terrible past gaffes. “As for how this all happened, that's... a long story...or at least a confusing one.”

Not-Papyrus stomped his foot on the ground, clacking his sharp teeth together, “WELL, I WANT TO HEAR IT!!”

“okay, but if you get confused it's not our fault,” Sans replied as you warily eyed the trembling shelves.

While you made sure to have the points of your panic glossed over, when recounted by Sans and Papyrus the story was almost interesting. Yes, it all sounded too surreal to your ears and was essentially the biggest mistake of your life, but it was almost nice to hear a refresher of everything from someone else.

Not-Sans was very quiet throughout. At first he was sweating buckets to the point where you were both partially grossed out and worried about the furniture, but now he wore the exact tired, resigned look Sans had after you told him what Katherine said. You privately liked to believe it was because he couldn’t believe the mess he’d been dragged into. You still couldn’t believe it and you’ve had over a month to adjust.

If Not-Papyrus was confused, he refused to show it by the time the talking was all done. He just stood there, arms folded over his chest, that sharp-toothed scowl on his face as if it was frozen there. But then, Sans tried to put it in as simple terms as possible.

When he finally finished, his not-brother looked at the ground and nodded. Almost in a sagely manner. “I SEE...” When Not-Papyrus looked up once more, your eyes met.

You took a sip of your tea.

His scowl deepened.

“WELL, I BELIEVE IT’S MY TURN.” Papyrus interrupted, raising a hand, “NOW THEN, WHILE I AM UPSET OVER THIS SURPRISING TURN OF EVENTS, I PREFER TO KNOW ALL THE FACTS BEFORE I JUDGE A SITUATION. POINTER PAPYRUS AND POINTER SANS, I’D SIMPLY LIKE TO KNOW THE REASON WHY Y/N WAS INJURED.”

Sans suddenly straightened in his seat, far more alert than before. “now there’s an answer i’d like to know too.”

“They wanted to know where they were.” You slowly set down your cup and shook your head. “I said no to the clearly hostile demands, fearful for my life and had no idea why they were the ones who were in _my_ room in the middle of the night.” Your gaze lowered. A part of you hoped your hair shielded your begrudging frown from view. “I…I admit I may have overreacted initially, maybe. In the moment I threw a book, but I mostly tried to put distance between myself and them. _Then_ they choked me, and threatened to kill me and take my soul if I failed to comply.”

“WHAT?” Papyrus looked absolutely aghast.

Sans said nothing, but his expression steadily darkened.

“PLEASE,” Not-Papyrus scoffed, waving you off. “WE CAN’T BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR THE HUMAN BEING SO PITIFUL. INSULTING AS THEY WERE, THE ATTEMPTS TO RETAILIATE WERE POOR AT BEST! SO THEY SHOULD HAVE DIED FOR THAT ALONE BUT NOW THE HUMAN MUST PAY TWOFOLD FOR THE SPELL PUT OVER SANS!”

The hell they couldn’t be held responsible. Honestly, what did he expect from you? Of course you reacted that way when forced into a situation like that.

“the kid is covered in cuts and bruises.” Sans deadpanned.

“THAT WAS SIMPLE STANDARD QUESTIONING. EVEN THOUGH IT DID NOT TELL ME WHAT I WANTED TO KNOW SO IT'S REALLY NOT OUR FAULT!”

The nerve of this guy. From the way he was phrasing it, you’d think that you were the one who tried to kill them.

“I also had a suspicion that they were going to pull information out of me through violent means,” You continued for good measure. “So I see my act of emptying a can of bear spray on the red Sans’ face as completely justified.”

That earned you another pair of glares. You shivered once, the color drained from your cheeks, and even then you tried to mute it. Keep it hidden away from the eyes that watched you.

Now that it seemed that Papyrus had a better understanding of what had happened, he seemed to be gradually slipping back into his normal personality in the sense that the more understanding side was shining through. No such shift in Sans’ disposition ever occurred. And then came the best part.

“SO IT WAS SIMPLY A MISUNDERSTANDING??” Papyrus cocked his head to the side. “I BELIEVE THAT APOLOGIES ARE IN ORDER!”

Not-Sans blinked slowly at Papyrus, picking unconsciously at the arm chair with his claws. “eh?”

Not-Papyrus’ mouth curled up in distaste. “NO, THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE! I WILL NEVER LOWER MYSELF TO SUCH AN ASININE TASK.”

“BUT WHY NOT?” Papyrus earnestly asked, hands clasped together. “IF YOU DON’T, THEN THE HUMAN WON’T BE ABLE TO FORGIVE YOU!”

Not-Papyrus put his hands on his hips. “I AM NOT EVER, _EVER_ DOING THAT.” With a bit of a growl in his voice, he added, “PAPYRUS THE TERRIBLE DOES NOT APOLOGIZE TO HUMAN SCUM.”

“BUT WHY??”

“ _WHY?_ ” Not-Papyrus jerked up, glaring. As though, he couldn’t begin to comprehend the gall of Papyrus for asking such a thing. “-WHAT DO YOU MEAN, WHY?”

Papyrus paused, putting a hand to his jawline, and then continued on in that same unruffled speech, "I WILL EXPLAIN IT SLOWER FOR YOU." He ignored both skeletons’ irritated expression, or perhaps didn't even see it. “YOU ARE A PAPYRUS, RIGHT? EVEN IF YOU LOOK... DIFFERENT AND YOU ACT... DIFFERENT FROM ME.”

“…SO WHAT?”

“ _SO_ OBVIOUSLY THE BOTH OF US STRIVE TO REMAIN THE PINNACLE OF WHAT OTHERS ASPIRE TO, CORRECT?” Papyrus clenched his gloved fists and pumped one into the air, sockets shining. Not-Sans appeared increasingly disturbed by the display. “THAT MEANS WE ALWAYS EXHIBIT A CERTAIN LEVEL OF REMARKABLE MODESTY, CLASS, AND DECORUM AT ALL TIMES! SIGH. SUCH IS THE HEAVY BURDEN UPON OUR SHOULDERS BUT IT IS PART OF THE REASON WHY WE NEVER FAIL TO BE SO GREAT!!”

“ALL OF THIS IS TRUE!” Not-Papyrus paused. “WHAT’S YOUR POINT?”

“IT WOULD BE EXTREMELY RUDE IF YOU DIDN’T APOLOGIZE. I’M SURE AFTERWARDS SHE WILL APOLOGIZE AS WELL! AFTER ALL, SHE DID AFTER OUR MISUNDERSTANDING AND GOT A COOL FRIEND LIKE ME, SO I’M SURE EVERYONE CAN GET ALONG NOW TOO!”

You blinked rapidly, “I-I guess?” You hadn’t planned to but sure, whatever. Anything to speed this along.

“THAT’S THE SPIRIT, Y/N!”

His proclamation was cut off by Not-Sans' own flat and sardonic laughter. The face Not-Papyrus threw at him now was also something of a grimace. “AS IF. I REQUIRE NO SUCH THING TO MAINTAIN MY LEVEL OF GREATNESS.”

A disturbed quirk of his eyebrow marred Papyrus' face. “BUT HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT???”

“WELL,” Not-Papyrus sneered. “I’LL EXPLAIN IT _SLOWER_ FOR YOU.”

Immediately Papyrus shook his head, "NO, THAT'S OKAY, I HAVE A SHARP WIT!"

Not-Papyrus bared his teeth, pointing at you accusingly. “WHILE I’M BEING CIVIL IN THIS CASE, IT’S NOT MY JOB TO _MAKE NICE_ WITH HUMANS. IT’S TO CAPTURE THEM SO THAT THEIR SOULS MAY BE USED TO WAGE WAR ON THEIR VILLAINOUS KIND! AS UNDYNE SAYS, THE ONLY GOOD HUMAN IN A DEAD ONE!”

Yeah, you figured he’d say something like that. You still wondered, exactly, why you felt surprised.

Was it because of how adamant this Papyrus was on seeing you as less than dirt? Because the influence of Undyne reared its head once more, even if it was an alternate version of her? Or maybe because of the little fact that for yet unexplained reasons this Papyrus intended to start a war against the humans in his universe?!

Papyrus, then Sans said something else but it went unheard as your next words shriveled up and died on the tip of your tongue, a rush of fear flooding through your veins. The red lights of Not-Sans’ gaze had locked onto you once more. Not with a glare, but the same considering look he’d worn with his phalanges wrapped around your throat.

Your body flushed hot as your hand jumped to cover your neck, then a frigid chill crashed over you so quickly in a sickening wave it left you dizzy.

“dunno what you’re talking ‘bout. i ain’t got nothing to apologize for.” Not-Sans retorted. Apparently Sans had said something as Papyrus and Not-Papyrus were locked in a heated debate in the background over their particular codes of ethics.

“from where i was standing it looked an awful lot like she was being attacked.” Sans said calmly, or seethed. Both tones of voice seemed almost interchangeable at this point, given that his expression had frozen into a guarded smile a long time ago.

“oh, that? i think you have the wrong idea.” Not-Sans grin was predatory, growing to truly unsettling proportions and gleaming with the promise of malice. It made something inside you scream out for air despite the fact you were already breathing. “me and the human were just starting to play a fun little game before it got interrupted, weren’t we? hell, we can pick up right where we left off, right _darling?”_

Stiff arms remained tucked to your sides, not keen on what might happen should you dare any movement. You could already imagine your head caving from the pressure of his vice grip. You hadn’t been sure what he was going to do with those shearing blades he called teeth but your addled mind was more than helpful in providing a number of frightening scenarios in startling clarity.

A cold sweat beaded on your brow and a choked whine built in your lungs.

The magic quickly grew so thick in the air, you could practically taste it. That's saying a lot, because you’re dead to the world when it came to magic, but now you could almost pick it out with your vision alone.

Sans was on his feet almost faster than you could register in front of you, the back of his jacket all you could see from him. More than anything else, his presence seemed to take up far more space than it should, swallowing the entirety of the room. “ **You think this is some kind of joke?** ”

Beyond Sans, the other Sans had stood just as quickly, sockets empty voids. “ **Do you want to hear a better joke?** ”

You wanted to laugh at how this had quickly devolved into arguing and threats, but you’re actually damn near passed out. Your breathing was ragged, and while you would like to throw out a sick one-liner, the ringing in your ears had started back up.

You needed to leave. Now.

With careful motions, you stood. You turned slowly, making sure you weren’t going to keel over then and there, and then bolted out of the room into the kitchen. You weren’t quite aware of the glance Papyrus and Sans shared, only your manufactured calm, your counted breaths and foggy vision, spotted with darkness, and the ache inside your head. Finally, alone in the dark of the kitchen, you collapsed into a chair.

You spent your time with your overheated, clammy face pressed to the cool wood, house phone a dead weight beside you. You had dialed and hung up the phone a dozen times - friends, family, the police, all had been debated and discarded until you had crumpled in defeat and given up the idea of contacting anyone entirely.

What was the point of trying anymore?

Something else in you urged to keep going. Put up with this a little longer. Your mind then circled right back to the same argument you had with yourself at this very same table.

Getting authorities involved seemed even more of a bad idea now that you had better acquainted yourself with the skeletons, if on a surface level. Your conscience was still firmly set on maintaining some kind of moral integrity, goddammit. Two violent skeletons would probably be confined here for the foreseeable future, lest you face the same dilemma of having the rest of human kind do what they do best when faced with something new.

Same argument indeed. Only now, things had spun out of control into issues much worse than you could have imagined.

The only thing you’re half-aware of was the heavy tiredness beneath your eyes. You closed them, willing even just the feeling of sleep to wash over you for a moment but there’s a hand resting on your shoulder and you’re shaken out of the possibility in an instant. After a moment, you tilted your head up. Your expression brightened slightly in winded relief as you registered the color of red, and a soft white, clear and smooth. Just as quickly, it fell away when your thoughts resumed.

A few seconds of half-clarity and you could imagine what you must look like sitting there. Motionless, like a doll, a puppet. You probably looked ill; pale, dark-eyed. Skin cut up and hair an absolute nightmare. All you knew was that your head was throbbing and you’re either thinking too fast and couldn’t process anything or you’re not thinking at all. Above that, you’re drained.

Papyrus braced your shoulder where you had begun to droop forward, and you flashed him what you hoped was a comforting smile.

It wasn't. It looked like a strained flash of teeth.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized blandly. At the same time, your voice almost cracked from how much restraint you wound around yourself, to force that statement out without it warbling from the chaotic emotions bouncing around inside your chest. “About all of this. I'm sorry that all this is happening. I don’t mean to burden you with my crap all the time but I’m just really freaked out and I don’t know what to do.”

“WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT.” Papyrus shook his head. “YOU’RE DOING OKAY!”

Okay?

_You’re doing okay?_

You appreciated Papyrus’ efforts but you weren’t sure if you should laugh or sob. The muffled sound, an odd mix of the two, grated against your tightened throat. You’re so completely in over your head. Feeling that you were doing _anything_ okay was the farthest thought from your mind. “What makes you say that?”

“FOR STARTERS, YOU HAVE HONESTLY BEEN TAKING EVERYTHING FAR BETTER THAN I HAD EXPECTED A HUMAN TO IN THESE CIRCUMSTANCES. YOU’VE ALSO BEEN TRYING REALLY, REALLY HARD TO GET ALONG WITH ME AND SANS, EVEN THOUGH YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO. WE’RE THE ONES WHO UNEXPECTEDLY BARGED INTO YOUR LIFE. AND YOU…OH NO, THAT LOOK IN YOUR EYES… ARE YOU HAVING ANOTHER PANIC ATTACK?!”

On impulse, you threw your arms around his torso and pressed your cheek into the soft fabric of his shirt, ignoring the sequins prickling against your forehead. Papyrus was so caught off-guard that he gave a start and stumbled back a step, arms frozen in place. For a second, the thought that you overstepped your boundaries in some regard wormed its way into your emotions.

_A hug? Really? What’s wrong with you? Are you physically incapable of acting normal?_

Old doubts well known to you quickly seized their chance to latch onto the fresh string of negative thoughts as you made to pull away, your stomach tightened into a knot.

_Look at you, he must think you’re being so needy and desperate. He should’ve left you alone. You already knew that the other Sans would murder you the first chance he got. Not like you didn’t deserve it after you went and hurt others again._

_A good person didn’t hurt others, they were kind and accepting._

_No wonder your mother always seems so disappointed in anything you do. Why did Papyrus ever think you were a good person-_

Papyrus halted your retreat and pulled you into a tight, equally-as-winding hug in that next second. Your resolve crumbled away to nothing like the rest of your body as you sagged into the fervent embrace.

“I NEVER GOT THE CHANCE TO SAY YET BUT I’M GLAD THAT YOU’RE AWAKE! YOU WOKE UP! SANS WASN’T AS SURE BUT I KNEW YOU WOULD! I KNEW YOU'D BE OKAY!” He squeezed you even tighter, and for a moment you couldn't breathe. “OKAY ACTUALLY I WAS A TINY, TINY BIT WORRIED THAT YOU MIGHT HAVE GOTTEN VERY HURT AND WOULD NEVER WAKE UP AGAIN, B-BUT I THINK THAT'S ONLY FAIR, RIGHT!? BECAUSE YOU'RE S-SO SMALL, AND THERE WAS A LOT OF RED ON THE FLOOR WHEN WE FOUND YOU!? I'VE BEEN ALL BONETROUSLED FOR DAYS NOW, AND I’M STARTING TO THINK YOU NEED ME TO LOOK AFTER YOU LIKE I DO FOR SANS!”

You let out a tremulous little laugh, furiously blinking back a sheen of tears you refused to shed. “I-I’m sorry, Papyrus. But I’m awake now.”

“YES, YOU ARE! I KNEW THAT YOU WOULD WITH PEOPLE LIKE US TAKING CARE OF YOU!” Papyrus held you away from him at last, looking you over with an attentive eye. “YOU DON'T LOOK SO GOOD, THOUGH!”

“Thanks, it’s something of a skill.”

He patted you on the head and you stiffened again. You forced yourself to relax after a beat of silence, keeping your instinctive want to shy away from the touch in check.

Papyrus touched a hand to his mouth in thought. “…ARE YOU STILL IN PAIN?”

“Yeah,” Attention draw back to the cuts and bruised patches of skin, you winced. “I’m trying to keep my mind off it.”

“OH.” There it was. An awkwardness, a halting of his speech. And then, just as quickly, the skeleton bounced back. “HOLD STILL.”

“Hold still for what-” You had enough time to register the look of concentration and his hands taking yours, a bright green light enveloping them, before you’re only aware of the pressure in your skull lessening, and your muscles unwinding. The ringing in your ears peaked, white noise overtaking everything, followed by the distant hum. A surge of warmth crackled across your nerves before fizzling out into a cool sense of calm, the kind that reminded you of mint for some reason.

You didn’t understand what the heck was going on.

There are pains you never really noticed that began to fade—an ache in your lower back, and the stiffness in your shoulders. Your stomach unclenched for the first time in recent memory, and you couldn't actually remember the last time you felt this… _calm_. Actually calm and relaxed. Not disassociating, not repressing, not suppressing or burying, but actually relaxed. Which was funny, because you should probably be a thousand times more stressed out, but you felt good for the first time in a long while and you’re so calm you couldn't give a damn.

_Is this what Sans feels like all the time?_

When you opened your eyes again, your headache was gone, and the stinging pain of your injuries had dulled to an almost nonexistent ache. Everything’s so bright and loud but it makes some sense. Your body felt like a body again. There’s a messy migraine aura in front of his eyes, colours colours colours mixing together. Like you just woken up from passing out.

He retracted his hands, beaming smile aimed at you. “NOW THAT THAT’S TAKEN CARE OF, DO YOU WANT SOMETHING?”

“What?” You rasped, but it didn't take so much effort to breathe anymore, and it didn't feel… scratchy.

Papyrus kept his patient smile. “WARM DRINKS TEND TO HELP CALM DOWN PEOPLE!”

“Uh... drink...?”

He took that as an affirmative and quickly fished for a clean cup in the dish drainer. He seemed so on top of this, at least when it came to suggestions. But was what just happened going to go unaddressed…? Did he work some monster magic on you?

You rubbed the bridge of your nose and leaned forward. For the first time since waking up, you took a deep breath, feeling it rush inside of you. You felt like you inhaled a bucket of popping candy, then topped it off with a pack of ice breaker cubes. It's honestly so satisfying it hurt, and you’re as loose and languid as a winding stream. Ready to take on the world and the problems it seemed determined to toss your way once again.

Joke’s on you world. You were feeling pretty determined yourself. And maybe… just a little braver too.

Great. Feeling scared all the time sucked.

In a matter of minutes, a mug of steaming hot chocolate was set on the table. Another beaming ray of light in this never ending night. You accepted it gratefully, pulling it closer to you. Your hands wrapped around it, allowing the heat to sink through the ceramic and into your skin. A comforting burn.

“DO YOU FEEL READY TO START TALKING TO THE OTHERS AGAIN?” Papyrus asked.

You tapped a finger against the mug and raised your other hand to rub at the back of your neck, eyes tracing the swirls of the table. You felt braver, but not _that_ brave. Something else was weighing heavily on your mind, as well. “In a minute. I’m just trying to work something out.”

“LIKE WHAT?”

“I know how monsters come through the book, but I don’t know why it happened this time. I don’t remember leaving it open in the dark.”

This time there was no input from the tall skeleton. You lowered your hand, and looked up. In front of you, Papyrus was wringing his hands, surprisingly at a loss for words as beads of sweat dotted his cranium. You, by contrast, took in his troubled posture with disbelief, your own brows raising. You had never seen him like this before.

“…AH YES, ABOUT THAT. I… MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE BEEN THE REASON WHY WE HAVE TWO NEW HOUSEMATES.”

Your eyes widened. Papyrus quickly launched into a long winded spiel before you even had the chance to utter a word.

“I NOTICED THERE WAS A LOT OF STUFF KNOCKED OVER ON THE FLOOR OF YOUR ROOM, INCLUDING THE BOOK! I FOUND IT NEAR YOUR BEDSIDE AND MOVED IT OUT OF THE WAY ONTO THE DRESSER. ASIDE FROM THAT, I DIDN’T PAY IT MUCH ATTENTION. WE WERE RATHER PREOCCUPIED AT THE MOMENT, SO I MUST HAVE LEFT IT OPEN BY ACCIDENT! I NEVER INTENDED TO ACCIDENTALLY SUMMON MY POINTER DOUBLE AND UNINTENTIONALLY CAUSE YOU HARM!”

His cheery, everything-is-fine expression had weakened significantly, a stark difference to the confidence exhibited before. Nothing was right about this. Some twisted sensation gripped your chest at the guilt tinged, apologetic look written across his features, and you chuckled, albeit weakly. “It’s okay Papyrus. I don’t blame you for anything. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

He looked a little lost, thinking over your words. However, slowly but surely, a small but bright smile graced his features. Thank god.

“do what on purpose?”

Even though you felt like you’re floating on a cloud from whatever Papyrus did, you froze on instinct. At least your mind and body was that out of touch, to the point were your fingers only curled tighter around the mug. Had this been any other time the floor would have been painted with hot chocolate and pieces of shards.

“Nothing.”

Papyrus perked up even more at the sight of his brother. “OH SANS, HAVE YOU FINISHED ASKING YOUR QUESTION?”

“oh. yeah. feel free to talk to them. i doubt either of them are going to do anything now.”

“I THINK I WILL! IF YOU WANT TO TAKE A BREAK IN HERE, I WILL ALLOW IT! JUST BE SURE THE BOTH OF YOU COME BACK OUT SOON!”

“take a break?” Sans flashed a lazy smile and looked sideways. “what a novel concept.”

Papyrus gave a determined, unworried laugh, “NYEH HEH! DON’T GET USED TO IT SANS! IT’S JUST THIS ONCE!”

You watched quietly, sipping your drink as Papyrus, more confident than ever, strode back off in the direction of the living room. He seemed much more, well, animated was a word for it. The book thing must have been weighing heavily on his mind.

It didn’t take long for you to turn back to the remaining skeleton.

His brows furrowed. “what?”

“Geez Sans, I should be asking you that.” You raised a brow as you then lowered your voice to a pitch that barely resembled his. “‘I doubt either of them are going to do anything now’. What did you say to them? ‘We’re going to break your legs if you step out of line’?”

Sans' eyes widened, so did his smile, a stray drop of sweat trailing down his skull, “uh. _no_ , we're not doing that. don’t even know where you got the idea.”

You huffed, a strained exhale of air. Was he…no. It wasn’t even worth it to think the question anymore.

“what were you two talking about?” he suddenly asked.

“Me and Papyrus were having a real heart to heart,” you said, taken aback a little. “I think we were having a real moment, y’know, until you dropped in.”

While it seemed that hadn’t the answer he expected, he played along. “aw, i’m hurt kid. where was my invitation?”

You rolled your eyes, making a seesaw motion with your hand. “Must have gotten lost in the mail.”

The Sans you were more used to rose to the surface, a small grin present as he laughed quietly under his breath though even that soon tapered off into nothing as well.

Neither of you said anything for long time. You didn't really mind; it gave you a chance to think. You kept reliving the conversation with Papyrus, over and over in your head. It hurt to think about, like biting down on a broken tooth, but you couldn't stop doing it. Though, as you quietly wondered if these periods of awkward silence were going to always be a regular thing with Sans, you noted the shallow grooves underneath his eyes had only grown darker with the passage of time.

“Have you gotten any sleep recently?” You tentatively tried.

“mhm.”

Alright, a more straightforward approach then, “Are you okay?”

Another noncommittal sound, neither indicating a yes or a no. You squinted at him. His mouth thinned out in an almost smile, his eyes reading you better than you’re comfortable with. Studying you. Heck, you were probably as transparent as glass as they flicked from the distant exasperation etched into your eyes and mouth, to the loose set of your shoulders, your hands, and back to your face, lingering on the cut on your cheek.

“are you?” he asked, his voice steady and calming, no trace of the usual teasing or easy smirks.

You tried to smile, lips barely arching upwards before falling again. “Okay,” you responded, although you’re not entirely sure how you got the words out, unwilling to face that odd look on his face in it’s entirety. “I'm always okay.”

_You’re not okay._

_You’re not okay and you both knew it._

“oh, stars. i’m not usually one for this stuff but…” He sighed, faintly uncomfortable as he rubbed at the back of his neck, just under the collar of his hoodie. “it's okay if sometimes you're not, you know, right?”

His eyes met yours and you almost said  _no it's not_.

“I know, but I am.”

It's enough of the truth for yourself and enough of the lie for him. You could see in his face that he believed you and didn't in equal measure, but he didn't call you on it which you appreciated. You thought you needed the half truth, and the lie, as much as he did.

“you sure?” He stuck his hand back into his hoodie, eyebrow quirking. It's his look for you, you’ve learned by now. Whenever he's amused in some capacity by you. You don’t know when you first realized this, but by now it didn't matter.

You scoffed, humorlessly. “Sure,  _Sans_.”

He chuckled softly at your pointed use of his name. “okay.”

“Okay.”

“okay.”

You paused. “Now that I think about it, this whole ‘not okay business counts as a moment right? I guess that invite had a last minute delivery.”

Sans shrugged, prompting a soft puff of a laugh.

You finished your drink, pushing aside the mug. “I hope that was enough about _feelings_ for one night. It just feels like everyone is trying to connect to me on an emotional level and it’s seriously starting to wig me out.” Papyrus? You understood that, but you’d save asking Sans why he became so defensive out of nowhere for tomorrow.

He blinked, expression unreadable for a moment. After a few long seconds, he gave you a rueful, almost tired grin. “same here. i’d steal a nap but i’m sure papyrus must be wondering if i fell asleep in here again.”

You took the hint for what it was. You reached out for Sans to help you stand, taking the offered skeletal hand. It's certainly not easy getting up, but it was much smoother and far less tiring than it had before. Wordlessly you both filed out of the room. Seconds later, the loud voice of your Papyrus drifted through the house.

You honestly had been mentally preparing yourself for something quite different, along the lines of a screaming match. But what you heard was interesting all the same.

“NO, NO. I DON'T WANT TO KICK YOU TWO OUT.”

“... you don't?”

“WEEELLL THE DECISION ISN’T UP TO ME, BUT LISTEN, I KNOW THAT YOU MUST HAVE HAD A HARD TIME IN YOUR OWN WORLD WITHOUT A PROPER GUIDE TO HELP YOU.” There was a faint clack.

“do not touch me.”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM.”

“BUT THAT'S WHY JUST THROWING YOU TWO OUT WOULD BE WRONG!” Too bad you didn’t share the same sentiment. You mulishly withheld an unamused laugh, keeping your feelings of dissent to yourself. “YOU SEE, I'VE DONE A LOT TO HELP MY BROTHER, SINCE HE'S ALSO LAZY AND IRRESPONSIBLE LIKE YOU ARE POINTIER SANS. BUT WE BOTH TRY EVERYDAY AND HE'S BEEN GIVING IT ALMOST 40% LATELY, WITH MY HELP!”

You eyed Sans, who had no outward reaction to that.

“... are you  _mocking_  me?”

“OF COURSE NOT! I MEAN THAT I CAN HELP THE BOTH OF YOU TOO, IF YOU WANT! AS LONG AS YOU TRY, I'M SURE YOU'LL BECOME MODEL CITIZENS AS WELL!”

“PFFT, I DON’T HAVE TO TRY AT ALL. I ALREADY AM THE MODEL CITIZEN WHERE I’M FROM! THIS REPROBATE NUMBSKULL, HOWEVER, NEEDS MORE THAN WHAT YOU ARE SUGGESTING TO KEEP HIM CURBED. ISN’T THAT RIGHT _SANS?”_

You heard an odd noise, like something was being rattled. “r-right boss.”

With dialogue such as that, somehow the scene playing out as you stepped into the room never crossed your mind. Papyrus, holding the book opened to his profile like some powerpoint presentation. Not-Papyrus, scrutinized the details stoically with one hand on his waist. As though he didn’t have his brother hanging in the air a good two feet above the ground by the hood of his jacket. Despite appearing very put off with more of that reddish-tinted sweat on his skull, Not-Sans made no attempt to resist, sticking his hands in his pockets to keep the coat from being ripped off.

Naturally he noticed you first. Sockets narrowed to slits, red eye lights lingered on you before shifting to Sans, then back to you. Surprisingly, the glare lacked a significant amount of heat this time and…nothing. Nothing else happened.

Your confusion rose as Sans smiled wider, completely at ease.

“oh, it's me. hey.” He shut one eye, one hand lifting in a lazy wave. “how's it hanging?”

There wasn't a response initially except for Not-Sans gritting his sharp teeth and sinking further into his fluffy coat. You could barely catch the shine of his gold tooth behind the bunched neck of his sweater. The outline of his hands alternated between clenching and unclenching motions, as if he’d like nothing more than to throttle you was visible through his pockets, but there were no threats, or growls, or mocking laughter. Just bitter silence.

Not-Papyrus made a face of utter discontentment when his eye lights landed on you and Sans. Papyrus was the only one who looks positive at your return, smiling widely.

“IT’S SURPRISING RIGHT?” He said, shoving the book into Not-Papyrus’ care and turning to face you. The spiky skeleton’s glower stayed in place as he opened his hand and deposited Not-Sans. Were it anyone else you’d have winced at the loud thud when he hit the ground. “SANS WAS RIGHT, EVERYONE WAS A LOT LESS SHOUTY AND CONFRONTATIONAL WHEN I CAME BACK! YOUR GROUP CIRCLE THING WAS A GREAT IDEA! THE GOOD NEWS IS THAT BETWEEN SANS AND POINTIER SANS TURNS, SANS MANAGED TO SORT ALMOST EVERYTHING OUT! THEY ALSO PROBABLY WON’T TRY TO KILL YOU LIKE THIS AGAIN!”

That explained so little. You kind of almost wished you hadn’t walked out before. Sans must have been pretty persuasive, or he pulled a minor miracle out of his pocket to mitigate the levels of aggression to such an unprecedented degree. “That’s…nice. And the bad news…?”

“THEY REFUSED TO APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT HAPPENED,” He pressed his hand to his chest which puffed out, scarf billowing slightly in wind that didn’t exist. “BUT NO WORRIES. I’M WORKING ON THAT PART!”

You tried to wave it off. “Oh no that’s fine, Papyrus you don’t have to. I can live without-”

“NONSENSE! I INSIST IT’LL BE PART OF THE REFORM! UNFORTUNATELY, YOUR MENTORING WILL HAVE TO BE PUT ASIDE FOR A LITTLE WHILE.”

“I HIGHLY DOUBT IT.” Not-Papyrus indignantly snorted, still looking at you as if you were trash beneath his heels. Looks like the miracle could only stretch so far. “THIS ‘ARRANGEMENT’ WILL LAST ONLY AS LONG AS THE WITCHCRAFT OF THAT STUPID BOOK KEEPS US HERE. AS SOON AS WE FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET HOME WE ARE GONE!”

You ignored him, and his subsequent fuming at being ignored, looking towards Papyrus with a raised brow. “You really want them to stay here?”

“YES! YOU CAN EXTEND THE SAME OFFER TO THEM THAT YOU DID US!”

“IT’S NOT LIKE I WANT TO BE FORCED TO SHARE A ROOF WITH A SNIVELING HUMAN _ANYWAY_.”

Your stare turned to Sans who shrugged again. “it’s no skin off my bones.”

It was off yours though.

You sighed, rubbing the sides of your head. Even if Not-Sans said nothing something told you he wouldn’t speak up against the roundabout answer of Not-Papyrus, which left you with another reluctant pair of skeletons to house. Wonderful.

Just. Wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. I wanted it to come out sooner rather than later. A lot of stuff happened, and hope a few things were explained, but this chapter had to have a few things moved to the next chapter. So, enjoy the new housemates?
> 
> I'll try to update in a timely manner. Check out my tumblr for things, queries and updates on this story.


	18. Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where everyone can let things goes back to normal.  
> Except for the part where they don’t.

Okay so two new skeletons. What now?

You supposed working out where they’d room from here on out would be a decent place to start.

As soon as you hesitantly gave Papyrus the go ahead, the two were whisked away by him into the hallway to the stairs as he chattered about the first night he spent here.

Well. Whisk felt like a strong word for how Papyrus ushered them out.

Not-Papyrus deigned to exit the room, the entire time doing his best to appear he just happened to be heading that way, planning on going over there anyway, thank you very much. Not-Sans was the grumpy equivalent of a cat dragging its feet, shoulders set stiffly. Sans trailed after the ragtag group at a much more sedate pace.

The realization you really needed to think of better names than Not-Papyrus and Not-Sans sat uncomfortably with you.

You hung back and idled, unsure if you should be joining them. It would be fine. Nothing was going to hurt you if you followed after them. Despite your mind insisting otherwise, your instincts whispered warnings. Faints things cautioning that even if you were around Sans and Papyrus, they may try their hand at ending your life. You bit your lip and shook your hands, hoping it could rid your nerves of some of the anxiety prickling up and down them. It didn’t.

With a small curse under your breath, you clasped them behind your back and sidled up next to Sans. He spared you a glance before returning his gaze to the back of his counterpart.

A sense of deja vu washed over as you stopped at the top of the stairs, staring down the same hall you’d trekked down with similar newcomers some time ago. You’re much better adapted to the idea of monsters and magic this time around, but they’re still so _weird_. The feeling only intensified when the full ramifications of this decision slapped you in the face.

The maintenance of your job, finances, studies, your friends all dangled precariously on a delicate wire. If you thought the balancing act of Sans of Papyrus with your life was trying, you dreaded the difficult spike sure to come. Another shopping trip might also be in order. It meant more money to be thrown at this mess, but Not-Papyrus needed to put on a shirt asap before he poked your eye out or knocked over something with those shoulder pads.

And then there was the biggest problem. You ransacked your mind for a viable solution to the ever headache inducing problem of your mother.

You only had one guest room which you loaned to Sans and Papyrus already. Your room and grandma’s room were out of the question, and somehow you doubted these two would be suited to being confined to the same room. Would your mother care if you shared out another two bedrooms?

Yes, she definitely would.

“Damn.” You slightly shook your head.

You would deal with the consequences for now and come up with a workaround for that later. One thing at a time. Now if you remembered right, the rooms on the left side of the hall were less furnished.

You nudged open the door closest to the stairs and therefore you, peeking your head in while Papyrus had the others distracted. Dark grey walls met your eyes this time. It was similar to the guest room in the sense it bore the mark of a neutral color scheme. The major difference lied in the somewhat smaller size to accommodate the singular bed covered in a light grey comforter. A bookcase and desk were shoved closer to the wide window perpendicular to the door you assumed led to the closet.

A look in the next room revealed more of the same. A larger bed sat in the middle with pale green sheets. The walls were painted an olive green with one wall an off white, offset by the mahogany furniture and stone fireplace. Next to the shelf on one side, opposite of the wardrobe, the door to a walk-in closet was ajar. Both had a few remnants of family memorabilia here and there, photo frames on the walls, books on the shelves, and items strewn across the dressers and the chests at the bed foot, but nothing too difficult to remove.

You stepped back and lightly rested your head against the wall, the tips of your finger rubbing small circles into your cheeks. The pressure against your teeth stung the longer you pressed down, but at least it took your mind off the words bouncing around your cranium.

“Alright, just breathe. Let’s get this over with,” you mumbled, brows furrowing. Hands lowered to your torso, your eyes clenched shut and you pumped your fists. “You made it through just fine the first time, and Sans and Papyrus didn’t seem so bad. You're a competent adult, and you can handle this too. Piece of cake.”

The self pep talk helped marginally. A small part of you whispered it seemed stupid how you were almost psyching yourself up to face the skeletons in their entirety.

“Okay!” Exhaling, you turned and clasped your hands together. Your louder than normal voice successfully drew all eye lights to you and you pointed to the first room. “I’ve decided what rooms you’ll stay in. Red Sans you can stay here.” You stepped to the side and gestured at the second door. “Edgy Papyrus you can have this one.”

“RIGHT ACROSS FROM OUR ROOM, IF YOU NEED ANYTHING!” Papyrus chimed in.

You nodded and braced yourself on one of the landing’s railings. “I’ll have the extra stuff in there moved out tomorrow. If you’re going to be stuck in this house, then I’ll just say the same thing I told these two. Do not break anything while you are in here, and don't be snoop too much. Privacy and all that junk. And don’t do anything crazy.”

Sans made an undignified sound that sounded suspiciously like a snicker in the back of his throat, only to immediately recover with a deep and rough cough. You narrowed your eyes but ultimately dismissed it.

“Uh, what else…” You scratched the back of your head, gaze on the ceiling. “Stay on the property for now. Keep in mind this isn’t some all-inclusive resort. Otherwise do whatever. Is that it? Yeah, that’s about it.”

Not-Papyrus bothered to give you one final glower before stomping past you and slamming the door.

“Enjoy your stay,” you added dryly.

“YOU KNOW,” Papyrus started, one hand on his waist, tapping his jawbone. “I THINK HE’LL LIKE STAYING HERE!” 

Oh Papyrus, the optimism he upheld was downright incredulous. It reminded you of Mai.

You scoffed under your breath. You could've been reminded of the Pope for all you cared at the moment. You’re still very much not okay with keeping people who threatened you within a hundred feet of your person.

“WELL THEN, GOODNIGHT POINTIER SANS.” He waved at Not-Sans who merely grunted in response before shutting the door in your faces. From the first room, you hear what sounded like a string of annoyed grousing, loud to a degree but not clear enough to make out through the door.

Wonderful people, the two of them.

Papyrus, not deterred in the slightest, immediately busied himself reminding Sans of some going on that they had the next day while you stole the chance to collect your thoughts.

One hurdle managed. That could have gone a lot worse. There were a few bumps but no fights broke out and no one died. That was a victory in your book. Sure, Papyrus admitting he’d left the book open was surprising but in the end it was your fault, wasn’t it? You knocked it over in the first place so ultimately, it’s your cross to bear.

At another time. The new skeletons were an issue the you of tomorrow could deal with.

“Well I’m going back downstairs,” you spoke up. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m going to stay up for a little bit.”

The silence stretched for a few seconds in the wake of your declaration, discounting the angry mutterings in the background. Sans shrugged but Papyrus clasped his hands together, tightening them with a small wince.

You gave them a long look, “Okay okay, what now?”

Sans looked at a point down the hall rather than on your person, “nothing.”

Papyrus did the opposite and shifted uncomfortably to the side, eye lights on you.

“I, UM,” He peeked down at his brother before returning the furrowed gaze to you. “ARE YOU CERTAIN YOU SHOULD BE MOVING AROUND SO MUCH? PERHAPS… IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA IF YOU… GOT SOME REST?”

You raised a brow. Even with being out of it for who knows how long, you hardly feel like you’ve slept at all. Maybe it was that magic Papyrus used but your muscles ached to stretch. Heaviness lingered on the edge of your attention and whispered in your ears to settle back into place for a nap. But there’s no way you even considered sleeping as an option at the moment.

The small, skeptical laugh felt tight in your chest. “I think I’ve had enough sleep.”

“YOU DON’T _NEED_ TO SLEEP,” he added, backtracking slightly. “BUT YOU HAVE BEEN MOVING AROUND A LOT SO SOON AFTER BEING BEDRIDDEN FOR SOME TIME.”

Speaking of which, “How long was I out for?”

The last thing you remembered was going downstairs. The next thing you knew you’re in a room with Not-uh, Edgy Papyrus and Sans.

Papyrus held up three fingers, frowning. “VERY NEARLY THREE DAYS!”

You stared blankly at the skeleton, as if his speech suddenly transitioned into something foreign to your ears, before the unbidden understanding hit you like a brick. “Ah,” you eventually croaked, slowly blinking once. “That’s… That’s not good.”

“nope.” Sans said, breaking into your thoughts. 

“It’s actually kinda troubling?”

An unsure smile crossed Sans’ face. “yeah.”

Your eyes flicked to the floor. Your words were more sigh than syllable when you said, “…Well, whatever. Like I told myself, tomorrow me will deal with it.”

Nice to know disappearing off the map possibly caused a host of other problems in regards to your friends, family, and job. This was a mess. You’re a mess. Everything’s a mess. If you were in your normal state of mind you’d do more than simply shrug it off. Maybe attempt to tear your hair out from how it’s just your shitty luck that things kept happening to you. It’s a wonder Papyrus thought you were dealing with this… okay.

An air of concern and vague disapproval hung between the three of you. After a few seconds, fidgeting with your index finger, and taking in Papyrus’ worried face finally had you conceding.

“Okay, maybe you’re right. I’m a little tired but I’m only going to be in the kitchen for a little bit,” you reassured. “I just really need to sort out the stuff in my mind before it implodes. I’ll get some rest after.”

The skeletons said nothing but appeared visibly relieved as you then began to bid them good night. You, on the other hand, were blindsided as Papyrus pulled you into a quick hug that bordered on painful. Your eyes were so wide that it seemed they could pop straight from your sockets. At your side, your hands clenched and unclenched. Thunderstruck, you gummed at your words for a moment before spitting them out.

“Great. See you two tomorrow,” you managed in an almost cheerful manner.

The wave you received from Sans was almost a dismissive gesture, the movement lazy and uncoordinated, as if weighed down. But his accompanying smile was much more easygoing, one resembling the one he’d started to give you on your little misadventure. Once again you’re startled, staring after their backs as they disappeared into their room.

Soon the feeling melted away, leaving you bereft. Confusion and understanding in equal measure stayed with you as you made your way down the flight of stairs. You wound up digging through the freezer in the kitchen and scarfing down several ice cream bars, ignoring the chilling bite gracing your nerves.

Papyrus and Sans.

They were such constants now, as much as you’d prefer not to admit. Denying you’d been somewhat caught flatfooted by the lack of their presence in that other place was easier said than done.

But after being exposed to their rather easygoing personalities, this shift to something resembling protectiveness was like whiplash. Why they may have felt that way you couldn’t begin to wrap your head around. You were just a human. One responsible for dragging them from their home into an unfamiliar environment and forced to bunk with you.

You bit harder into your fourth victim, taking solace in the frigid stinging to your teeth. The sensation grounding you better.

Things were much different now, yet entirely the same. Given Papyrus’ apology earlier and the fact he’d spoken like you might’ve never woken up, you could see where the worry was coming from. And he did say he considered you his friend, hadn’t he? Sans… you still weren’t sure where you stood with him. Though he apparently didn’t hate you like you’d led yourself to believe, you hadn’t deviated much from your earlier assessments of him. Still amicable but distant.

Extremely loose unacknowledged companionship, you reaffirmed to yourself. Acquaintances at best.

It still explained nothing.

Monsters were weird, you surmised again.

Discarding the wrappers, your wayward cell phone left abandoned on the counter was pocketed. At least that saved you the trouble of searching for it. Thanks, whoever left it there.

The walk to your room was short. You fumbled with the doorknob and didn’t bother to turn on the light. You shuffled the few feet towards the bed past the mess strewn across the floor and collapsed in an undignified heap. You turned to one side and then the other, sitting up to punch your pillow into a more comfortable shape. Even though heaviness suddenly weighed your eyelids down you couldn’t shake the growing need to open them and stare up into the darkness.

_Just close your eyes. Rest. Stop thinking, you’re still thinking. Stop it. What’s wrong with you?_

You reached up and fumbled in the darkness for the tiny fan mounted on the headboard, hoping the ambient noise might drown out some of your louder thoughts. You punched the pillow again for good measure and pulled the blankets up to your chin, forcing your eyes shut.

You would not open them. You would not.

The hum of the fan set a steady, repetitive pattern and you slowed your breath to match it. Steady, calm, focus on breathing. Especially don’t focus on how much your bone deep ache and the way the mattress drills into your hip. Don’t think about how you made a fool of yourself repeatedly. Don’t think about how you’re going to explain it away this time. Think of numbers, count, breath, rest.

Seven in, hold four, seven out.

* * *

You didn’t answer your phone the first time it rang. And why should you? It’s 1 am, the tail-end of one of the less savory days of your life, and the last thing you wanted was to talk to someone. You didn’t even bother checking your phone to see who it was.

It's 2 am.

Your phone suddenly came alive again, chirping once, twice, three times. Even after the notification sounds died down, a light from your phone pulsed gently, washing away any pretense of sleep until you checked the messages and turned them off. Groaning, you groped your phone off of the nightstand, blinking against the screen’s piercing light.

 _hey,_   _don’t leave me hanging in the dark here_  the first one read.

 _you never answered man_ it continued in the second.

_how is she doing?_

Contemplating a response, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, you absently went to type, _if by she, you meaning the owner of this phone then yeah. tis i._

With a sigh, you threw your phone back on your night stand. No one would probably be up and about for another three hours, meaning you’ve got two and a half more hours to spend lying in bed. You rolled onto your side and squeezed your eyes shut.

Immediately your phone rang again, crushing your whim to laze about. Flopping over, you grabbed the shrieking device and slid the talk button across the screen, a groan scratching your throat.

“Hello?” Unused for hours, your voice came out more as a croak. You cleared your throat.

An anxious, fatigue-soaked voice ground out your name through the other line. “Is that you?”

The air left your lungs as the caller finally registered, a name swimming to the forefront of your mind. You pulled away your phone to rake your eyes over the number. “What the- Sine?” You rolled out of bed, fumbling over your words.

“Hey...” He breathed, his strained voice teetering on the precipice of cracking. “Man, it-it's good to hear you again. You alright?”

The creases on your forehead softened, the edge to your tone dissolved. “Y-Yeah, I'm good,” you tried to mumble as soothingly as you could. “What about you?”

“ _Me?”_ He’s baffled. “You’re the one who knocked herself out for days. And you’re asking me if _I’m_ alright?”

You attempted a small grin. “Took a little fall but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I woke up from my power nap hours ago.”

Of all the ways for Sine to respond, you didn't expect his laugh. A weak, thankful giggle. Rough around the edges, and thick with restrained emotion. It filled you with a peculiar shock. Man, had it been that long since you'd heard honest-to-God laughter?

“A _little_ fall? If anythin’ had happened to you I’d have come up there and raised you from the dead to smack you around myself.”

“Glad to know you care.”

“I try. I just- Thank fuck you’re fine.” There was a faint grunt over the line. “Now _what the hell_ was going on with you?”

Uh oh.

“The…Sans,” He stressed the name, an inflection you couldn’t quite identify, “told me what happened after one of my calls finally got through. Found you passed the fuck out in a pool of blood on your kitchen floor. The hell made you think putting yourself through that no sleeping thing was a bright idea? What if you had fallen down and never woken up…”

His voice petered out, leaving you to wince and stare ahead without seeing any details of the room. You half wished he hadn’t heard at all. Any time was enough for him to silently worry himself into the ground as he was forced to go about his day with that knowledge in the back of his mind.

“I’ve had problems sleeping lately,” you started slowly, brows knitted. “Some nightmares here and there. I didn’t think it was anything to get worked up over yet. You’ll be glad to know this informative experience has scared me out of my skin and any plans of doing it in the future are crossed off my list.”

You understand why everyone was concerned. Said understanding did nothing to mute the uncomfortable burn in your stomach.

“Sine?” you asked when nothing but silence dragged on the other end, prompting you to nervously fidget with your fingers.

“You’ve been having nightmares?” he asked, cautious about even broaching the line of the subject.

Your face fell. “Yeah.”

“How long?”

“Since before Sans and Papyrus popped up.” There’s a hiss of breath through clenched teeth, brief but weary. You heaved out one of your own. If the positions were reversed, you’d be in the exact same scenario. “Yeah. I know.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll say what kind of nightmares they were…” He sounded conflicted. You knew his inherent curiosity didn’t suffer while he was clearly reeling from the relief that you’re not dead. The memory of many past late night conversations on this very thing, however, chained his train of thought down before it could fully leave the station. “Heh. I’d understand if you didn’t.”

The change in your nightmares, the monsters and that dream world. That you wanted sort out for yourself first, even if it was only a little bit, before sharing with anyone else. Not for a lack of belief in Sine’s case. If the acceptance of monsters from another world came easily enough, you wouldn’t doubt his trust here.

You had a suspicion he would take you seriously, no matter what you told him.

“Not yet. Soon,” you assured gently. If nothing else, you wanted to soothe him at least on this front. 

“I wish could come and see you.” He sighed. “It’d be a lot easier on my mind if I could simply pop over there myself. Gotta make do with calls for now.”

Now that he brought that up, you did wonder about one more detail in all of this. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but what are you calling so late for? I couldn’t answer the phone.”

“I did say Sans told me what’s up.” He replied. You could almost hear the shrug in his deep voice. “Since then the monsters were kind enough to keep me updated on what was going on over there. Mostly through texts but I’ve managed a call a couple times.”

Interesting. “But…why two in the morning?” This was an obscene time to be up at. Then again, this was two skeleton monsters you were thinking about here. Both with the oddest sleep schedules you’ve ever been privy to.

“At least one of them were pretty much guaranteed to be awake around this time.” Sine muttered, confirming your suspicions. He paused for a moment, probably remembering whatever conversation he had in your pseudo absence. “Usually Sans would answer the calls.”

At this your brows quirked up. “So you’ve talked to both? Sans…and Papyrus? You and Sans are both into awful puns, pretty much two peas in a pod. But, uh, what did you think of Papyrus?”

God, you could only imagine what that first talk was like between your friend and housemates. Sine seemed well acclimated to energetic people, giving what you’ve heard about his younger brother and friends, but Papyrus seemed a league of his own.

“Sometimes…” Sine admitted after another long pause. He sounded absentminded and distracted. “I think he’s a cool dude, y’know?”

You chuckled under your breath, grinning for real this time around. “Yeah, he is.”

The talk drifted off into more mundane topics as Sine informed you of the updates in his work and daily life. It’s a relief to bask in this familiar, normal atmosphere, your nerves relaxing bit by bit. By the time you noticed the effects of the various subject changes you felt completely at ease. He wasted no time slipping in well timed jokes then, and with just the right prodding, you fell into the same trap. Before long you’ve both dissolved into periodic fits of elated hysterics. Distant wheezing laughter echoed yours from the other end as you’re forced you to bury your head into your pillow until the giggles died down.

You missed this. It’s only been a few days since you’ve spoken to him, but still. Talking to Sine, it’s almost criminally easy to forget the frustrations and fears of the past week.

* * *

The blare of the television and the muffled voices of other house occupants was easy to hear when you slowly pushed open the door to your bedroom. You’re not in any dying rush to face them after your near breakdown the day before. Embarrassment and shame threatened to win out over your brief moment of calm. A perfect combination to start the day out with.

You sighed softly, running your hands through your hair to tame it to a manageable level. Perhaps a little walk outside could clear your head. Allow you revel in the relative normality before you had to confront everything.

Wary of a too loud screech giving you away, you eased your bedroom door closed, locking it as soon it clicked shut.

“OH, GOOD MORNING!”

Papyrus’ head had popped out of the kitchen before you made it two steps out of the short hall. You startled at the loud voice that rang across the house. Quickly, you rolled your shoulders and shifted on your feet in an attempt to hide the gesture, turning to look at the tall skeleton. A wide, genuinely pleased grin spread across his face, crinkling eye sockets and nasal bone before he disappeared back around the corner.

It wasn’t like you could pretend you didn’t see him, better to get this over with you suppose. Pull the Band-Aid off in one go.

You ambled into the kitchen, blinking at the sight of the ingredients laid out on the counter. Papyrus was bent over in the kitchen, looking for something in the refrigerator. When he stood, you saw he's still in his long sleep shirt and pasta printed pyjamas.

He beamed, either not noticing your slightly more frazzled than usual look or choosing not to comment on it. “IT’S WONDERFUL TO SEE YOU UP AND ABOUT AGAIN!”

“Y-Yeah.” you stuttered out. “Good... morning, Papyrus.”

“DID YOU SLEEP WELL?” Never one to whisper his voice snagged the attention of the other monster in the vicinity. From the corner of your eye, you caught a rare glimpse of Sans expending energy to crane his neck over the back of the couch, but not making the extra effort to come over. Your ears barely caught the soft creak of a body collapsing back onto the couch after a few seconds.

“I got a lot of rest,” you dodged as gracefully as you could.

“I SEE?”

It was then you noticed the concerned shade to his features. You hurried to amend your statement, if a little. “And I don’t feel as terrible as I did before. Probably thanks to whatever you did before, though you didn’t have to trouble yourself with doing that. Thank you.”

Papyrus brightened a little at that. “NO NEED TO THANK ME BUT YOU’RE WELCOME! I WAS SIMPLY HELPING OUT IS ALL!” He shut the fridge door, then opened one of the cabinets above the counter and pulled out a griddle with a clatter before turning back to you with a smile that seemed a touch too forced, even for him. “I’M SURE YOU MUST BE ABSOLUTELY FAMISHED?” he asked, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

“Yes, a little,” you agreed, when in reality you’re starving.

His smile turned more genuine, fidgets lessened. Already your mind whirred to life, processing the signs. He’s still worried but this you could give him. Food was something he can take care of. Food was more his domain. It’s something he could do to make you feel better, which made him feel better. So you’ll eat whatever he makes with a thank you and if you could manage it, a smile on your face.

...

He shouldn’t have to worry about you. No one should. You messed up with your poor decisions and it wasn’t acceptable. You’re supposed to be the one fixing things, not the other way around.

“VERY WELL! THEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL MAKE SOMETHING TO QUELL YOUR HUNGER! NYEH HEH!” he laughed, it’s cheerful and not taunting and lightened your worry a few notches. Things couldn’t be entirely bleak if Papyrus was still laughing.

The familiar clatter of cookware quickly filled the kitchen. Hauling yourself on your customary spot on the counter, you settled into watching Papyrus do his thing. It’s always entertaining to watching him speed around, dashing from one section of the kitchen to the next. As expected your offer of help was declined.

You raised a brow however, eyeing the package pulled out of the freezer. “Bacon?”

“I CANNOT UNDERSTAND THIS PREFERENCE YOU SHARE WITH SANS FOR GREASY MORNING FOODS LIKE THIS, BUT AS YOU USUALLY BALANCE IT WITH HEALTHIER CHOICES I AM WILLING TO MAKE SOME FOR YOU TODAY!”

“My favourite,” you joked, unable to not feel fond of the monster. “I commend you for undertaking this grand endeavor.”

He puffed his chest out, the spatula in his hand somehow not detracting from the pose. “NOTHING IS TOO DIFFICULT FOR SOMEONE AS GREAT AS I!”

Sitting here like this in Papyrus’ company, you couldn’t explain it but this was so…wholesome. It almost felt like you could fool yourself into believing everything was normal.

“PLUS WE MIGHT HAVE NEW PEOPLE JOINING US FOR BREAKFAST TODAY. I’M WILLING TO BET POINTIER SANS IS AS FOND OF GREASE AS MY BROTHER.”

But just like that… it’s gone.

Your smile faltered. “Oh. Right.”

You watched Papyrus flit around for a little longer before excusing yourself to get the others.

Exiting the kitchen into the living room, you flinched at a sudden movement in the corner of your eye. You turned your head, meeting the equally startled gaze that dimmed after a blink as they registered your presence. It’s just Sans. You forced yourself to relax the same time his shoulders slumped.

You…

You forgot he was there.

Sans looked around, then sighed, rubbing the back of his skull. He looked tired, as though he’d been drifting off.

“stars, kiddo. i was about ready to send in a rescue crew. thought you might have died or something.” He said it as a joke, but there was concern similar to Papyrus’ tugging at the corners of his eye sockets and the ever familiar guilt heaped itself on your shoulders for having caused it.

“Yeah…sorry, lost track of time. Guess I was more tired than I thought.” You fiddled with your hands as a distraction from making eye contact. This was weird. You’ve never been this nervous around him before, but you were now.

All you got in return was a thoughtful hum, eye lights roaming over your features. Before you could muse on whether that was a positive or negative thing he sunk further into his sweatshirt, hands fiddling with the PS4 controller. “no worries. happens to the best of us.”

You offered a small smile in appreciation. Even if it wasn’t true, it was nice of him to say it.

The skeleton gave a lazy wave and you headed for the stairs. Or, you tried to.

Your feet remained rooted in place, resistant to even taking a simple step. Painful aches and bones hurled at you, buzzing pressure prickling your skin, rose unbidden in your thoughts. Anxiety soon started to knot in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter-

Nope. No. Don’t think. You rubbed your hand across your face, shaking your head. You couldn’t stand here all day, debating on whether or not you should move. The longer you stood here, the greater the possibility became of them coming down themselves and you being the first thing they set their beady red eyes on in the morning. The thought finally got you reluctantly moving.

By the time you reached the final portion of the staircase, you found yourself struggling with the urge to throw up. The second floor was silent. Empty.

You knocked your fist against the first door, but... there's no answer. Wonderful. 

“H-Hey? Anyone in there?” you called out, knocking again. Is he ignoring you, or had he just slunk off to do something?

Your hand rested on the doorknob to check, but you stared at the door with mounting dread, fingers numb.

_Hurry up and get it over with._

The room's unlocked. Tentatively, you pushed open the door. Light spilled into the darkened room from the hall as it swung open, coming to brush against the end of the curtains drawn over the windows. You leaned inside, brows furrowing in surprise. The room's as tidy as it was last night. The bed doesn’t even seem to have been touched…and there’s a distinct lack of angry skeletons to be found.

"Oh well," you muttered as you closed the door behind you.

You didn’t want to have to go out of your way searching for him. Papyrus would just have to settle with the bad news. The other Papyrus could still be in his room though.

“th’ hell are you doing?”

You jumped, sucking in a startled breath so quickly that it lodged in your throat and nearly sent you into a coughing fit. You spun around, your nerves on high-alert.

Lo and behold, it’s the devil himself leaning against the doorframe of his brother’s new room, hands shoved into his pockets. Short as he was, the glare he was casting up at you might’ve scorched a lesser person to ash. It wavered when his eye lights flicked over your shoulder, then down to your empty hands, but regained it’s sharpness as soon as they landed back on your face.

The static grin he wore felt more like a scowl the longer you stared at him. You swore you felt the adrenaline rushing through your bloodstream, prepping you to run or fight.

_“you gonna scream kiddo?”_

Suddenly it felt like you were back in that room, your body frozen in place. You'd remembered it all then - clench of the boney fingers on your face, the maw of teeth, the heavy, suffocating weight of him - and you remember it all too easily now.

Your stomach twisted at the memory. A terrified cry of fear and alarm scratched the inside of your throat, begging to be released.

Why weren’t you moving?

He straightened his stance in the wake of your silence, a long, narrow look thrown at you. You balled your fists, digging nails painfully into your palms. You wouldn’t allow yourself to scream. You couldn’t.

“…y’gonna keep fucking staring or  _say somethin’?_ ” 

You immediately averted your gaze, scolding yourself for staring like an idiot. Great he probably thought you were standing around wasting his time. God, was he pissed? That didn’t surprise you. You know you’d be if a can of bear spray was emptied into your face, regardless of circumstance. Man, don’t think about valid reasons for him to kill you right now.

Maybe if you distracted him you could bolt out of here, out as much distance between you and them as possible-

No, no, calm down. Panicking never helped anyone. Do this in a calm way.

You took in a deep breath.

“Papyrus is making something for breakfast for everyone,” you smoothly spat out the words as though they burned your tongue, completely rattled. Nailed it. “Come down if you want.”

You pretended you didn’t see the way his tight smile hitched higher on his face and revealed more fangs, paired with flexing clawed hands; how you imagined either of them ripping your throat out.

“that so?” His voice was low, words gruff but carrying a hint of confusion.

“Yes.”

“why?”

“He’s probably doing it to welcome you and your brother,” you said before you completely lost what nerve you had left. You raked your slightly shaky hands through your hair, trying to calm your frantically hammering heart. “I’m just here to tell you two it’s your decision if you want to come down. Feel free  _not_ to show up.”

You only got a moment to watch the flicker of light surprise in his expression before you turned and speed walked out of there, ignoring the eyes burning into your back. No point pushing it too far. You valued your life. At a later time perhaps, you’d find it funny how you almost tripped as you jogged down the steps in your haste to move out of his line of sight.

Reaching the bottom, you slowed to a stop in the foyer.

Why had you thought this was a good idea to handle yourself? You could’ve asked Sans to come with you or, better yet, let Sans or Papyrus handle this on their own. They weren’t the ones attacked or afflicted with fear at the mere thought of interacting with the other versions of themselves.

You heaved a soft sigh and crinkled your nose at the face staring back from the entryway mirror. The girl was still normal, yet like in that other place that seemed so distant now she seemed older. The weariness behind her eyes stood out almost as much as the discolored skin. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against your reflection.

Look at yourself. Other place, talking about that weird fever dream as though it was something…tangible. It had terrified you about as much as your encounters with Not-Sans but it was just a dream. Dreams couldn’t hurt you. Not when you were real.

Maybe…maybe with enough time, you could sweep it under the rug. Forget it ever happened. It was for the better if you did.

Something caught your eye when you moved to lean back, but it's gone before you could really see what it was. A frown tugged at the corners of your mouth and you squint, peering closer. What was…

An involuntary shudder wracked your form, a shallow breath catching in your lungs.

That was… part of the dream, wasn't it? It’s couldn’t be anything more than it. You wondered in your head as your mind struggled to catch up, not realizing your breath was still held captive in your chest. Unconsciously, your hand crept up to gingerly touch the side of your throat, a small corner of your mind truly questioning the other ninety-nine percent that previously tossed the notion aside as absurd. Ridiculous. Impossible, you mentally scoffed. It didn’t really…

You forced a lump in your throat back down to where it came from, head pounding heavily in your ears.

Beneath your fingers, you felt the light mark that stretched across your neck. Pale to the point you hadn’t noticed at first glance but leaning in again you saw it. It's faint, very faint, but if the light lined up at just the right angle, the thin, long line glinted back damningly.

You jerked back, ripping your hand away from your throat as if burned.

A minute passed. Then another. And another.

The back of your eyes prickled but all you could do was stare, unable to muster up any feelings for the hapless girl. Not as she trembled and let out a shaky laugh at the realization, running her palms over her face.

Not even as you saw a little more of her chip away before your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Guess who's back! I hope no one thought I gave up on this because I'm determined to finish what I start! I WILL PERSERVE!!
> 
> I'll be working on my fics whenever I can, and I hope there won't be a need to wait whole months again if I can help it. This chapter was probably meh, but I'm shedding the rust, and I'll do my best! Also 100k+? What?? Thank you guys for sticking around this long to read my trash and for being so patient with me. I'll try to get updates back to being more regular now. 
> 
> Come say hi to me at my [tumblr](https://myosctis.tumblr.com/). Ask queries, submit prompts, check out art, or even ask the characters in this fic stuff.


	19. It Goes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The status quo can be maintained despite a few new additions, right? Right.

It took a while for you to calm down, ragged breathing slowly evened out and stray tears quietly wiped away. Your throat felt raw and you’re struggling to blink away the red rimming your eyes by the time you do. And what did your mind decide to be the next logical step?

Go to the kitchen.

From the sounds and scents floating out of the room, it’s likely Papyrus was almost done with breakfast, and you knew how well an attempt to try and help would work out. You quietly slipped in anyway. You’re not even sure what prompted you to wheel in there anyway, dazed, staring into open air, but while you were here you might as well make yourself a cup of tea. 

Something hot, that would burn your tongue and sear your fingers. A distraction to get your mind onto other things.

You ducked under Papyrus’ wild movements as he transitioned from the stove to the griddle and slid the kettle on the last available space of stovetop. Afterward, you perched yourself on one of the stools and sighed gustily, leaning against the cold melamine with your elbow.

The air drifting in from the wide open windows was cool, and the hairs on your arms rose in response, but in your thick pyjama pants and plain wool socks you decided that you’re warm enough. Some soft, jazzy music had also been put on, leaving you content to turn to the opened side door and stare outside as you waited for the water to boil.

The once empty backyard now home to the puzzle dungeon set up near the treeline was the same as ever, if bearing a new addition here and there. In the morning light, the place was still and quiet; a bird warbled sweetly at the foot of the gnarled and thorny lemon tree near the well, and another sorted through the mulch beside it for food.

The sight of them almost made you smile, and with it came a litany of familiar thoughts as your gaze wandered to the trees.

You wondered if either of the brothers had discovered the lake yet on one of their outdoor ventures tucked away somewhere on the property. From what your faded memory could recall, the other non-rundown house backed straight onto it, with a short wooden pier and an aged and rotting boat shed that had never been used, for as long as you could remember. Maybe they had, seeing as they found the hill. But also, perhaps not since the old dilapidated house went unnoticed until you went there yourself. If the latter was true, it’d be nice to show them at some point.

The kettle finished its boil and you readied your tea, picking it up and sipping at it, savoring the heat singeing your insides. Lazily, you watched as Papyrus scooped generous spoonfuls of ground coffee into the press and then dumped the rest of the freshly boiled water in.

None for you, thanks. You had probably also over-caffeinated yourself on the stuff. How sweet you could view your mistakes with a slightly clearer head.

Hm, sweet. There was also a sugar shack and a treehouse somewhere. Maybe. Your memories were a little more hazy on that regard, as you hadn’t ever gone there yourself.

You twitched at the light call of your name, registering the weight of the hand on your shoulder.

“Huh?” It was just Papyrus. It wasn’t even noon yet and your head was all over the place. “Oh, sorry. I was just… lost in thought.”

Seeing your attention reclaimed, he withdrew his hand, grin wide. “NO WORRIES! YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON I TO STEER YOU BACK ONTO THE PATH OF THE STRAIGHT AND NARROW!”

Your heart panged a little at the kindness and casual familiarity – you knew from experience that it took a special kind of people to accept a veritable stranger into their life and treat them so kindly. Your grandma was the same, and the thought of never being able to talk to her again still hurt.

You smiled, a little plastic and brittle around the edges. “Did you need something?” you asked, your voice perhaps a touch too bright.

Papyrus, bless his soul, didn’t seem to see anything remiss about it. “I AM JUST ABOUT TO FINISH! WOULD YOU MIND GIVING THIS TO MY BROTHER?”

“Sure thing.” The rest of the tea downed in one swing, you stood and accepted the steaming mug from his hands, brows knitted together. “Is something wrong? I thought I saw him with coffee earlier.”

“OH, NOTHING. I THINK. SANS WAS JUST UP LATE AGAIN LAST NIGHT! I WAS TOO, EXCITED ABOUT OUR NEW HOUSEMATES, BUT I DOUBT HE SHARED MY ENTHUSIASM!”

Small wonder as to the reasoning behind that. “I can understand why.”

Papyrus waved you off, gently nudging you in Sans’ direction.

Exhaustion comfortably settled on your shoulders, you sighed and shuffled into the living room to discover Sans still occupying the exact same space. He’d returned to slouching back against the arm of the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table and controller left to the side. Without much preamble you handed him his coffee.

“thanks.” He didn't even look away from the TV as he took it before lazily motioning you to sit.

As soon as you slumped down into the seat next to him, Sans’ gaze shifted to you, grin beginning to fade around the edges. “you look rattled, kid. something happen?”

“N-no, I'm good! It's… nothing,” you hedged, your voice coming out smaller and more tired than you anticipated.

He didn’t even try to be subtle with the accusatory look he tossed towards the stairs. “uh huh. how are you feeling then?”

“Fine,” you said quickly, which technically wasn’t true so you added before he could call you out for lying, “Better.”

Luckily, he decided not to further push the issue, turning his gaze back to the TV.

There was no point worrying about things out of your control but thinking about them brought on a sudden urge to curl up on the couch and sleep forever. You met the whim halfway there, resting your head and elbow on the other armrest, watching the TV with unseeing eyes.

You had told yourself to take things as they were when they came, but why was the world determined to make it so difficult? It would be so much easier to handle your life if you could simply stop your mind. Stop overanalyzing. Stop feeling. Distract yourself from runaway thoughts with anything. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you had Sans for that.

“Hold on, is that…?” You squinted at the television, examining the screen harder. It seemed he had finished flipping through programs and settled on a documentary about the ocean. “You jacked my Netflix for this?”

“i was tired of surfing the programs.” he admitted. “haven’t really had any experience seeing the sea, so i figured why not?”

“I’m a little surprised you went with one on marine life.”

Sans chuckled and slowly looked sideways at you. “don’t krill my vibe. it’s amazing for shore.”

Leave it to Sans to bring puns into things as usual. You groaned, “No. Don’t.”

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his grin widening. “could you be more pacific?”

You wound up sitting through a rapid-fire barrage of puns as Sans skirted around any topics outside of the documentary. His eyes strayed a few times off to the side, but his smile remained casual. It's obvious he was changing the subject to something besides your new roommates, but you had to admit you appreciated the minor gesture. Sans’ pun streak carried on right up to the point when breakfast was done.

By the time Papyrus squawked at him to knock it off your mood even began to improve again.

Although you gotta say, the best part was when Papyrus stomped into the room and hefted Sans off the couch. He proceeded to then chuck him out the nearest open window, exclaiming he needed to ‘SIT IN THE CORNER AND THINK ABOUT WHAT HE’S DONE’ as he sailed outside. You almost choked on the laugh that had burst out from you. For some reason, Papyrus’ reactions to Sans’ terrible puns were funnier than the puns themselves.

“MY DAY WAS GOING SO WELL, I LET MY GUARD DOWN.”

A second passed, and then, “...your royal guard?” floated in through the window.

Papyrus turned on his heel and dramatically flung his hands over his face, his smile not quite concealed, “ENOUGH BROTHER.”

As hilarious as you found the interaction, you’d be a little heartless if you hadn’t checked on Sans after Papyrus left the room, peering out the window in mild worry. He was fine though, puffing blades of grass out of his face and raising a hand in an ‘A-Okay’ gesture yet making no attempt to get up whatsoever.

Shaking your head, you headed into the kitchen with quite the sight greeting you. The counter…it’s a complete mess of wayward ingredients and globs of syrup.

However, it didn’t take away from the image of Papyrus in the splattered white ‘World’s Greatest ~~Grandpa~~ Papyrus’ apron he seemed to have grown fond of, proudly presenting the plethora of food set across the table. “I WAS UNSURE OF PREFERENCES SO I MADE AN ASSORTED SELECTION OF EVERYTHING! HOPEFULLY THERE’S SOMETHING HERE FOR EVERYONE.”

The food smelled amazing, and you breathed in deep as you approached the packed table, eyes like saucers as they surveyed the spread before you.

There’s bacon, ham, sausage, _and_  eggs done in several varieties. A stack of pancakes dripping piled high with fruit, thick syrup drizzling down them was nestled beside the two bowls of his favorite oatmeal, bottles of jam, and a dish of freshly cut fruit. Fluffy golden french toast with powdered sugar and maple cinnamon butter. Of course, there’s a bowl of his spaghetti signaturely done and charred and another plate covered in muffins and—

Were the five of you supposed to eat all this?

You kept the thought to yourself as you helped Papyrus set up the rest. Plates of pretty much any immediate breakfast item that could come to mind was here for the party. There’s questionable food here and there but most of it looked edible.

Nabbing a couple of things and stealing a seat, you took a bite of the buttery pancakes. Crunchy. Why was it… Oh, that why. There were bits of uncooked pasta in the slightly raw batter.

Eh, you could live with this.

Sans wandered over to the table at some point, having apparently found the strength to drag himself back inside. As he dropped into the chair beside yours, he leaned over your plate and snagged several pieces of bacon, ignoring your dirty look. “heh, i see you outdid yourself as always bro,” he mumbled around the mouthful of food. Gross.

You hummed your agreement. “Yeah, it’s wonderful Papyrus. Thank you.”

Papyrus lit up at the praise. “OF COURSE! NOTHING LESS THAN THE BEST CAN BE EXPECTED FROM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

You didn't talk much more after that, but Papyrus was good at filling in the silences with quips about his puzzles and what the brothers had done while you were out of commission. The comfortable chatter helped anchor your thoughts in the moment. As it turned out they had both kept a close eye on you and your condition, constantly checking in, but they’d pretty done nothing too out of the ordinary otherwise.

Somehow the topic drifted to favourite puzzles created.

“ey, no need to knock word searches. they’re okay and everyone likes ‘em.”

“Then which ones do you like?” Thumb circling the underside of the fork, it speared through a piece of your pancakes. Syrup drizzled messily onto the dislodged fruit that rolled to the side. You stuck your forkful of food into your mouth.

“i dunno. crosswords, i guess.” Sans shrugged, popping the cap on a bottle and lathering ketchup over his plate. Eggs, bacon, toast. It all sunk beneath a sea of viscous red. “never put much thought into which i preferred.”

“CROSSWORDS ARE SO EASY AND BORING,” Papyrus set down his egg sandwich and eyed his brother with mock disgust. “JUNIOR JUMBLE IS _STILL_ EASILY THE HARDEST OF THE THREE.”

“and i'm tellin' ya i _still_ think that they’re too easy. they’re practically built for baby bones,” Sans retorted flatly, but his eyes glittered with thinly-veiled amusement.

Papyrus huffed, throwing his hands into the air. “UGH!! YOU ARE IMPOSSIBLE SANS! AT LEAST THE HUMAN AGREED WITH ME ON THIS!!” You didn’t recall ever saying anything like that. He faced you next, curiosity enough to temporarily curb his indignant tone. “HOW ABOUT YOU? DO YOU HAVE A FAVOURITE PUZZLE?”

“Me?” You shook your head. “Ah, no. I don't think I’ve ever had the know-how for anything complicated. I might try one at some point though. They're pretty neat.”

“A BEGINNER HUH? WELL THEN I WILL BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO ASSIST YOU WHEN THE TIME COMES!”

You leaned back in your seat, watching the two of them interact. You were struck by just how _bizarre_ and _domestic_ this scene was. Your hand trembled underneath the table and you clenched it into a fist to stop the shaking. Yesterday… you could have died. You were in… _that other place._ This morning you’re eating breakfast and chatting like nothing happened.

There was just a sense of… unreality to it.

You breathed in and shook it off.

Of course you were eating breakfast. A normal thing to do. Simple. Logical.

“It’s fine,” The murmur was barely noticeable to your ears above the din of the room as your fork tapped an idle tune against your plate. Papyrus had gone back to talking and you were glad it had covered your awkward silence. “I’m fine.”

Everything was cool. Normal-ish even, aside from the little bumps in the road earlier. If you avoided them, pretended they weren’t around, maybe it would keep going smoothly for everyone.

Yet, you couldn’t resist chancing a glance at the stairs as you helped yourself to another bite of eggs. A part of you felt wary to even face that direction, lest the monsters in question would be summoned by mere thoughts alone.

You wouldn’t put it past the world to screw with you like that.

“It’s been a while huh,” you pointed out, not at all put off by the absence. Maybe once you got your fear under control you could stop freezing up one of them got with ten feet of you. “I suppose it’s just us today after all. That’s...too bad.”

Papyrus’ gaze darted to clock hanging on the wall.

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” He then gestured towards the side door with a confused look. “OUR ROOMMATES CAME DOWN AND HAVE BEEN OUTSIDE FOR SOME TIME NOW. I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION YOU’D SEEN THEM?”

You froze. “I _didn’t?”_

The TV had been a little loud, and your back had been to the stairs, but you weren’t a distracted enough person to miss _any_ Papyrus.

Papyrus clapped his hands together. “I THINK THEY’RE AS FASCINATED AT THE SIGHT OF THE SKY AS WE WERE THE FIRST TIME WE SAW IT! MAYBE SANS HAPPENED TO SEE THEM?”

You glanced at Sans, shock and nervous fear creeping onto your features. He’s carefully not looking at you, “maybe.”

Papyrus turned to you but something behind you caught his attention. The backdoor slid open with a loud bang, the glass vibrating in the pane as in stepped the other brothers. You fumbled your fork and it fell to your plate with a clink.

Not-Papyrus’ eyes snapped downwards, settling on you and his face immediately contorted into a hateful scowl. A flinch racked your body, eyes wide with every hair on you standing at attention.

The stray thought you harbored last night floated forth before your mind could generate vivid memories of cold hands choking of your air supply.

Sans and Papyrus were right there. They couldn’t hurt you.

If these two skeletons tried anything the other two could probably stop them like last time. They couldn’t hurt you.

You were fine, you were relatively safe. They couldn’t hurt you.

Your mind grasped onto the cold comfort, as though it might slip through your fingers like glittering dust.

“GREETINGS, PAPYRUS AND SANS!” Papyrus interjected, breaking the uncomfortable silence before it could take hold. He leapt to his feet, sweeping an arm across the table. “HOPEFULLY YOU WILL FIND AT LEAST ONE THING I’VE PREPARED TO BE ENJOYABLE! WELCOME TO THE HOUSEHOLD!!”

Arms crossed, Not-Papyrus’ sockets flicked to the form of Papyrus, watching closely rather than taking the invitation to sit. “QUITE.”

Not-Sans disregarded the tension entirely, sparing his brother and you a brief glance and immediately plopped down in a seat at the other end of the table. He just dragged the entire plate with the remainder of the bacon over to him and started shoveling it into his mouth. Well he definitely was _a_ Sans.

Not-Papyrus exhaled sharply, scoff lodged somewhere between dismissive annoyance and disgust. “DON’T BE SO UNCOUTH, SANS. YOUR LACK OF BASIC MANNERS IS ATROCIOUS AS ALWAYS.”

Rolling his eyes, Not-Sans huffed bitterly, “after yesterday’s shit, fuckin’ let me live a little.”

Not-Papyrus literally growled – as though he was some kind of animal with gravel in his throat – before he turned away.

“ANYWAYS!” Papyrus cut in, putting more water on to boil. “AS I WAS SAYING BEFORE, IF YOU ARE GOING TO CREATE YOUR VERY OWN PUZZLES YOU’LL NEED THE PROPER MATERIALS. I THINK THE ARRIVAL OF OUR NEW FRIENDS ARE A PERFECT FIRST TEST!”

“I-um, what?” You didn't exactly relax, but you felt better with your attention focused solely on him.

Papyrus faced you again with a sage nod. “REMEMBER WHAT I SAID ABOUT CUSTOMARY, HORRIBLE PUZZLES TO CREATE LASTING FRIENDSHIPS? WE CAN DO THAT AND THEN EVERYONE CAN STOP BEING SO AWKWARD AROUND EACH OTHER!”

Not-Sans snorted.

Your shoulders stiffened. “I’m not being awkward.”

So what if words were hard to form right now, nerves shot to hell as you wiped your clammy palms on your pyjama pants? It meant nothing.

“uh, bro,” Sans started, folding his arms on the table and leaning on them. “i don’t think she’s as advanced as you. think she should start off with something simpler?”

“NONSENSE!” The tall skeleton shook his head. “I’M CONFIDENT SOMEONE AS INTERESTED IN SOLVING PUZZLES AS HER WILL HAVE LITTLE TROUBLE WITH THEM, AND WILL NOT FACE ANY ISSUES. EVEN IF SHE DOES, I WILL BE THERE TO GUIDE HER!”

Not-Papyrus waved a dismissive hand. “TRAPS ARE THE FAR SUPERIOR CONSTRUCTS.” He scoffed, narrowing his sockets. “PUZZLES ARE MERE CHILD’S PLAY AND AS SUCH ARE BENEATH SOMEONE AS GREAT AS ME.”

Papyrus squinted off to side for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought before grinning. “I UNDERSTAND. ALTHOUGH I CAN’T SEE WHY YOU’D FIND DIFFICULTY IN ADMITTING SUCH A TASK IS SIMPLY TOO HARD FOR YOU TO ACCOMPLISH.”

 **“WHAT.”** Not-Papyrus straightened and glared daggers at Papyrus, who slanted his sockets in response.

“I HAD ASSUMED SINCE YOU WERE A PAPYRUS SOMETHING LIKE THIS WOULD BE NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT. THAT THIS WAS EASY ENOUGH TO DO, DESPITE BEING ‘CHILD’S PLAY’ BUT IT SEEMS EVEN I CAN BE MISTAKEN AT TIMES. PERHAPS YOU ARE JUST NOT CAPABLE, OR CONFIDENT ENOUGH, OF CREATING A LITTLE PUZZLE FOR THE HUMAN THAT SHE CANNOT BEST. IT’S ALRIGHT TO ADMIT IT. SOME MONSTERS HAVE THIS NATURAL PROBLEM IN THEIR LIVES.”

You leaned back in your chair, utterly blown away by the brazen implications of those statements. Even Not-Sans paused his rather voracious eating at this, eye lights flicking between both of the standing skeletons.

“PLEASE, YOU THINK I CANNOT SEE WHAT YOU’RE DOING?” Not-Papyrus fumed, all but bristling like an offended cat. “EVEN SO, I AM CAPABLE OF ANYTHING. EVEN CONSTRUCTING A SIMPLE PUZZLE FOR THE HUMAN SCUM TO FAIL JUST TO DISPROVE YOUR UTTERLY INANE ARGUMENT.”

“WONDERFUL, WE CAN START TOMORROW!” Papyrus announced in triumph. “IN FACT, I’LL GET THAT BOOK I PICKED UP AT THE HUMAN STORE! IT’S ALWAYS BEST TO OBTAIN A GOOD FOUNDATION OF PUZZLE BUILDING SKILLS!”

Wow.

The moment Papyrus’ presence vanished the strained, if not somewhat warm, atmosphere dissipated faster than snow roasted over an open flame. Your skin prickled from the chill in the air. Quietly scooting your chair closer Sans’ didn’t ease the spike of anxiety, but it made willing your stiff fingers to ease from the trembling fist your hand had formed a bit easier.

The frigid undercurrent remained.

You pulled your phone from your pocket to keep yourself occupied and swiped through your mail. Bill, bill, junk, spam, bill, notice from the university in town. An email with a camera emoji.

You perked at the final one, swiftly opening it and skimming the contents. Looks like the papers wouldn’t be a huge issue, barring the fee and the human photos. You’d figure something out but it wouldn’t be long now before you had documents on hand for your two housemates. That’ll come in handy. Though what about these ones? Should you do the same for them?

Did you really want them wandering the streets around other humans with personalities like that?

“you got a fucking problem or somethin’?” Words as sharp as those teeth lining his skull, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was a defensive edge to his voice as the hard red eye lights stared back.

Oh, at some point during your musings your gaze must have drifted to the irritable short skeleton. Not terrifying, not terrifying at all. As if you’d be petrified from the realization, sweat beading on your temple, foot tapping out a nervous rhythm.

He barked a sudden half amused, half dangerous huff of laughter. “…or, maybe you just like what you see, huh, dollface?”

…He did not just say that.

Not-Papyrus made a disgusted noise. “FOR ASGORE’S SAKE, NO STANDARDS AS ALWAYS I SEE.”

A hand slapped your face as your shoulders hunched. His brother retorted something about it being “a damn joke”, but you were too busy suffocating in sheer horror and embarrassment, wishing for the floor to open up and swallow you whole, à la your terrible nightmares.

Sans was also busy chuckling at your cringe. He took the hand covering half of your face, holding it between his and lightly patting it with a wry grin. “does that count for your threat of being strung up by the coccyx?” Sans sounded a bit too cheerful for your tastes. 

“Almost.” You hissed and snatched your hand back, covering both of your ears. His grin only grew wider, enjoying your suffering as usual. You screwed your eyes shut as well.

This can’t be happening to you. Were you still in your bed, trapped in the increasingly surreal realm of sleep?

“…still laughing here.”

You groaned loudly and forced your eyes to return to the phone. Unsurprisingly, it was much easier to keep a brave face when not facing the objects of your fear. “Same thing applies though to anyone who even thinks of trying something. This is _my_ house. I’m determined to keep my home a safe place for _me_. Do anything really freakin’ messed up to me? Feel free to hit the road, or the offenders will find themselves stuck here for the rest of however long you skeletons live in a world of potentially hostile humans with no way back to your worlds.”

It was suspiciously quiet after that. You didn’t dare to peek up from the screen, eventually zoning out with no idea how to proceed from there.

Not-Papyrus left first, apparently deciding he had enough. Whether he even ate anything you didn’t know but he wordlessly exited the kitchen after throwing all of you another disdainful stare for the road.

Still you had one issue left at hand.

The Not name thing going on in your head had to stop. You glanced first at the Sans in the pale sweatshirt and then to the one currently in his red sweater. "Sans?"

“what?” They both said, neither looking up.

"...Nothing."

Yeah, you could see this quickly becoming a problem.

Papyrus soon returned, a whirlwind of energy as he dropped the book on your lap. Boy, the prospect of studying sounded like a utopia compared to this emotional rollercoaster that had dared to mask itself under the guise of a simple breakfast.

You tried to clean your plate, but it's a lost cause and you pushed it away so you could lean forward and rest your chin on your forearm. It's almost as if everything is back to normal, barring one murderous skeleton. You closed your eyes and listened to the ebb and flow of the voices and try to forget the unwavering anxiety that had been plaguing your thoughts since you had woken up. The warm room and your full stomach only encouraged your exhaustion. You didn’t realize you nearly dozed until Papyrus shook your shoulder. You lifted your head to find you were the only ones still left in the kitchen.

There’s still an exuberant amount of food left over but at least breakfast seemed just about done. Or it would be, if Papyrus didn’t keep confounding you by making even more things as you began sliding empty dishes into the dishwasher. Orange tea if you went by the label on the box. You never knew Costco had tea of that type but the more you know.

Papyrus offered you a cup. “WANT SOME?”

There’s a break in the sound of running water from the tap as turn it off. No harm done if you tried it. You murmured a thank you and raised the cup to your lips, sipping Papyrus’ orange tea. You blinked in surprise and took another greedy gulp of the succulent liquid.

It tasted like oranges.

Didn’t beat hot chocolate but it was up there. For a moment you allowed yourself to relax. You watched him from the corner of your eye as he rearranged the remaining hill of food neatly in rows. It was nice of him to do all of this today. You had to take Papyrus into town one day and treat him to something. Sans too, after the burn of your humiliation had cooled enough. With glamours, leaving the house should no longer be a problem for them…Great, you’d probably have to pay a small fortune to get two more, if you bothered to at all.

You clutched your cup, the last vestiges of its heat clinging to your palm. The tea rippled as you did, breaking up the contemplative eyes staring back. “Hey, why are you making tea? I’m sure how appreciative the others will be of it.”

Papyrus shifted his weight back and forth on his feet, clearly excited. “IT’S FOR OUR GUESTS!”

“Guests? What guests?” You frowned, half dreading the answer. Chances were it was going to be something you wouldn’t be thrilled about. “We just had breakfast.”

“DON’T BE SILLY. I’M TALKING ABOUT YOUR HUMAN FRIENDS OF COURSE! JUDGING BY THE TIME I’D SAY…THEY SHOULD BE HERE WITHIN TWENTY OR SO MINUTES!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like 5 or 6 something here in the morning. Hi. Long time no see, again. Let's hope writer's block stays dead this time.
> 
> If any of you are wondering where the fluff is well... keep wondering. Okay, seriously though, a lot of the heavy stuff is out of the way for now. I'd say one or two more chapters before the... ideas start coming into effect.
> 
> Come say hi to me at my [tumblr](https://myosctis.tumblr.com/). Ask queries, submit prompts, check out art, or even ask the characters in this fic stuff.


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